


i'm outta time

by MardyBum394



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Drinking, Fluff and Angst, Hiatus, Isolation, Louis left, M/M, No Smut, Not AU, Post-Break Up, References to Oasis (Band), Sea, Wales, clifford, niall is the best of the best, they broke up but now meet again, why not xx
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-21 07:36:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 58,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20689847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MardyBum394/pseuds/MardyBum394
Summary: If you kissed the sky, give it a fucking love bite, you know what I mean? - Liam Gallagher (Oasis: Supersonic, 2016)They broke up right after hiatus and Louis left everything behind, going for the deserted house in a small Welsh village, trying to build it all back up. He is alone for three years, noone knows where he is; he has Clifford and the sea to look at everyday and he rents out a b&b of sorts to guests who want some quiet time. Facing Harry Styles one of those fine April days is no easy thing.





	1. 1

Louis’ head was pulsating.  
Can a head pulsate? He didn’t know. The tiny pub he was in was packed with the villagers and they were swimming. Well, not swimming swimming, but- ugh.  
He turned to the portly balding barman who was treating to someone to Louis’ right.  
“Charly, hey,” Louis said as he stretched out a hand and poked him in the arm. It took a few pokes to get him to turn.  
“You alright, lad?” he said and smiled at him, looking like an older brother. Louis hated sober people when he was drunk.  
“You are a devil, Charly, do you know that?” Louis said, his eyes wanting to close at their own accord. He leant his temple against one of the bar poles. “I haven’t even drunk that much, have I?” he mumbled, eyes closed.  
“Sorry, mate,” he said and Louis felt a hand squeeze his shoulder.  
“It’s alright,” Louis said. “But I still hate you for that.”  
He heard Charly laugh at that and took a deep breath. That turned out to be a bad idea. Sweat and booze weren’t a good way to clear one’s head.  
“You’ll be alright here, Lou? Want me to call a cab?”  
“We have a cab in this village?”  
“Yeah, like, one or two.”  
“Sick.”  
Charly started talking to someone else next second and Louis opened his eyes. A tall lanky bloke was leaning against the bar next to him. He probably noticed Louis’ stare and looked over.  
“Hey.”  
“Hi,” Louis said, trying to keep the stranger in focus.  
“Having fun?” the man said and smirked. His eyes were sparkling and his black hair was catching the electric lights quite nicely. Louis wanted to slap him.  
“Sure,” he said and ran his hand down his face. “Whatever you say, man.”  
“Is it, now?” he asked and turned to Louis fully, a pint in hand.  
“What?” Louis said, frowning. What did he want?  
“What if I say I’d want to take you home?”  
“Bold, aren’t we?” Louis said, raising his eyebrows. Not that he was interested, and his alcohol infused brain was another reason not to, but it was fun to banter. “Sorry, mate, not interested.”  
“Shame,” the bloke sighed. “Alright then, I’ll see you around,” he said and waved with his beer. Louis managed to nod at him. He really needed a wee.  
He guided his way to the loo with his hand on the wall, trying not to fall. It was probably time to go, or else he’d fall asleep somewhere here and somebody would call a paper and there’ll be an article called ‘a former boy-bander found sleeping in a bar in a small Welsh village’ or something like that. Louis chuckled at the thought. He left the cabin and washed his hands, splashing some cold water onto his face, trying to bring his thoughts in order. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. His hair was horrible, and there was a stain of something on his cheek. Shit.  
He leant forward to wipe it off when the stranger from before entered the bathroom.  
“Nice bum,” he said, eyeing Louis’ backside.  
“I know, right?” Louis said, wetting his fingers and trying to calm his hair. The stranger came closer, watching him. “What’s up?”  
“You are sure you don’t want anything? I haven’t seen a man so pretty in this hole for a long time.”  
Louis felt a rush of blood to the bottom of his stomach and swallowed. Why not?  
“Oh, you didn’t?” he said, turning around and leaning back on his hands. “How come?”  
The stranger smirked and stepped closer, resting his hands on Louis’ hip bones.  
“I guess we’ll never know,” he said with a shrug. “So what do you say? May I kiss you?”  
Louis nodded, his head a bit clearer, and the next thing he knew the man was kissing him. It felt… ordinary and unusual. He suspected the latter was due to the fact that it was his first kiss in the last three years, and he just had to push through it. After all, he didn’t claim to be celibate.  
But as the kiss went on, Louis couldn’t quite get used to the foreign lips. They weren’t Harry’s, and as much as Louis hated to admit it, it still meant something to him. This stranger is probably not the right decision. Not yet.  
Louis tried to lean back, but the guy only tightened his hold on his waist. Louis pushed him gently away, hands on the stranger’s chest.  
“Hold your horses, mister,” he said, pushing him further away, hands still gentle. The bloke was frowning. “Sorry, I changed my mind,” he said, dropping his hands.  
“You sure? I think I’m the only gay here,” he said and Louis chuckled, shaking his head.  
“Sorry, mate. Go to the city next time,” he said, clapping him on the shoulder and stepping around the man. “Have a good night,” he said before leaving, the guy watching him in the mirror.  
If there was one good thing about the kiss, is that now Louis was sober enough to use his own two to walk home. He waved at Charly on his way out and grabbed his jean jacket from the hanger. The air outside was cold, so Louis hugged himself and hunched his shoulders up, concentrating on staying on the road.  
He loved the village with its small houses along the main road, every one with its own garden. He loved that on a cloudless night he could see the stars nice and clear, something he was never able to do in London. He missed his people sometimes, but then he remembered that one day he’d come back and everything would be just like it was before. Or as much as it could be, at least.  
It took him a bit longer than usual to reach his house, which stood right by the shore, a few minutes’ walk away from the village itself. The two buildings stood white even in the midnight darkness, guiding him. When Louis entered his house, his eyes looked to the doors of the living room out of habit, but Clifford didn’t run out to meet him. So he took off his clothes and climbed the stairs to his bedroom, wondering when the hell his dog would come back.  
The next day hadn’t brought Cliff back either. Louis spent it walking the shore and then the village, calling for his friend, but it was all fruitless. He ended up on his favourite spot by the sea, not far away from his own little garden. The sun was about to set, and the sky was almost entirely yellow. He remembered the day he took Clifford in. He was about to leave London not knowing when he’d come back, when he saw that someone was giving away the puppies. He remembered how the dog didn’t like him at first, how he used to sit in one corner of the house and gaze out of the window, looking almost scared to be by Louis’ side. If he was honest, Louis had half the mind to let Cliff run away then, thinking that was a mistake and that he was torturing the poor animal.  
But then they started to warm up to each other. Clifford would play with him more and more, raise his head when Louis greeted him in the mornings; and one day he sprang onto the sofa on which Louis was reading and rested his head in his lap. Louis remembered how he couldn’t bring himself to read afterwards, turning the TV on instead, and spent the rest of the night cuddling with Cliff, who had finally become his friend.  
Louis smiled at the memory and noticed that the sun was almost hidden. He walked home looking around one last time, but entered the house alone, feeling out of place.

The next day found Louis in his own backyard, where he had a small orchard. He had just finished sweeping the stony path and plopped down on the bench by the back door. He liked it there; behind his house was a small forest, and except for the guest house to his right there was not a soul to see him. He kept a small wooden chest with poetry books under the steps, which he went through whenever he curled up on the bench, usually with Clifford by his side. He fished out a book by Dylan Thomas. When he moved to this part of Wales, he read up on places around him. It turned out that the nearest town, Laugharne, was a favourite of the poet’s, and Louis had no problem finding his books in the local bookshop. He opened a random page and found a poem called ‘On A Wedding Anniversary’. Of fucking course.

The sky is torn across  
This ragged anniversary of two  
Who moved for three years in tune  
Down the long walks of their vows.

Now their love lies a loss  
And Love and his patients roar on a chain;  
From every tune or crater  
Carrying cloud, Death strikes their house.

Too late in the wrong rain  
They come together whom their love parted:  
The windows pour into their heart  
And the doors burn in their brain.

He finished reading with uneasiness in his chest. He felt annoyed at god knows what and in pain. As if he was tackling something he tucked away long ago. Frankly speaking, he was doing exactly it. He closed the book and threw it on the bench beside him. He felt betrayed by it, he felt like the thing was glaring at him; glaring into his soul and laughing at him.  
Louis felt his eyes hot, and next thing he knew he was sobbing. He leant forward, hiding his face in his hands, and let himself cry. He was struggling to breathe due to the heavy weight in his chest that he came to feel particularly strongly in the last three years. Unwanted memories flooded his mind; memories he swore to leave behind, there, in London, the day he had left.  
He looked at his hands, trying to blink past the tears. The number 28 stood out on his fingers, a burning reminder, just like the rest of his body. They weren’t married per se, they wanted to do it after, once their careers would become more or less stable and they wouldn’t have to be boybanders anymore. Only that when they really got the chance, he wanted to build a solo career, and Louis wanted to finally feel at peace.  
He sobbed and fisted his hands in his hair, trying to hide the reminders from himself. It was impossible though. The other half of them was walking the earth a few hundred miles away, and even if Louis got rid of his own — the thought of which suffocated him — he couldn’t really well erase tattoos from Harry’s skin now, could he?  
* * *  
Louis leant back in his chair with his hands behind his head. The sun was starting to rise above the sea, colouring the skies in soft pinks and purples. He smiled gently, breathing deep. Early mornings felt ethereal for him sometimes, but he loved getting up before dusk ever since he moved to the south of Wales three years ago. Every early morning smelt of the salty sea, tasted of bitter tea and felt soft on his eyes.  
He stood up and took the sheet with the new lyrics, pausing for a moment before tucking it away into his folder with all the songs he wrote after they’d gone on a break. He stretched, yawning loudly, and let his arms fall to his sides. Everything felt slow this early in the world, as if the life hadn’t started yet; so Louis took his time preparing another cup of tea and then made his way out of the house and to his favourite spot on the shore. He plopped down onto a blanket in the sand, the cold April night still biting at his skin. The sun was hovering right above the horizon, now blushing red and yellow, the clouds around it almost green.  
Louis sighed and took a sip of his tea, missing the warm furry body of Clifford by his side. He put his cup into the cold sand and rested his elbows on his knees, watching the water lick the ground in front of him. Had he sat a few feet closer, it would reach him, but he had lived here long enough to not get into the water before a good number of properly hot days, which had still a long way to come.  
Clifford was usually the one to run into the water headfirst no matter the temperature, leaving Louis to wait with the towel by the water. Louis smiled at the memory and felt another pang for his now missing friend. It felt way too lonely without his dog by his side and no renters. And Louis would never leave without Clifford; that was not an option.  
When he Cliff hadn’t been home for a whole day, Louis went into the village nearby and put up little notes everywhere, asking anybody who saw Cliff to contact Louis. Though he gave his second number — even if nobody knew he used to be a superstar, he had to be careful. But that seemed to be useless; he hadn’t received any calls, and was left to look for Clifford every time he got out for the last week.  
The wind rose higher after a while, and he decided to call it a day and come back to his bed to catch another few hours of sleep. He looked around for his dog just to make sure, but the empty coast just stared back, blank as ever, but for the village starting to wake up in the distance. He sighed and took his cup and blanket with him. He needed to work on his little garden today, his flowers ready to go to the actual flowerbeds now. He gave the patches of dark soil a glance before closing the doors, taking a mental note to check on the ones by the guest house later, too.

A few hours later found Louis on his knees in the grass in front of his own porch, a little spade in one hand, petunias in the other, music in his ears. He was on all fours when his phone rang and he pressed the call button on the earbuds, cursing under his breath.  
“Good morning, sunshine!”  
“Shit, Niall, why are you up so early?” Louis said, frowning at his petunias. He had a set of pink ones and of purple ones, and it was a hard choice. “Hey, Nialler, pink or purple?”  
“Excuse me?”  
“I’m planting my flowers, pink or purple?”  
Niall burst out laughing, sounds of him making tea on the other end pausing in the background.  
“What?”  
“You sound like a proper wifey, Tommo.”  
“Fuck off.”  
“Alright, alright, flower boy, let’s go purple.”  
“You sure? ‘cuz there will be red flowers, too.”  
“It’s bloody flowers, Tommo, who cares?” Niall said with a smile so huge Louis could hear it all the way here in Wales.  
“I do, you dick, and don’t you dare talk shit about my flowers, you hear me?” Louis said, finally deciding on the purple ones and putting the box with the pink ones on the ground. He stood on all fours again to reach the farthest corner of the flowerbed. “What are you up to, anyway?” he asked, digging a small whole with his miniature spade.  
“Just wanted to check in with you,” Niall said, and Louis bit down on his smile. Bless Niall for being such a nice friend, though Louis would never admit it out loud.  
“Really?” he said instead, throwing the spade back into the grass and carefully lowering the plant into the hole. “Why so early though?”  
“Ugh, you know them people, they want me to come to the studio in like an hour.”  
“Look at you, complaining about getting your second album,” Louis said, now pressing the soil firm around the flower.  
“Hey, you wait till you start recording yours. When are you leaving your hole, by the way?”  
“Don’t call it a hole, Nialler. It’s nice here.”  
“Yeah, and it’s like, three hundred people? How are you not missing humans there?”  
Louis smirked, sitting back on his knees and admiring his work. He stretched his arms above his head and exhaled loudly.  
“I told you I wanted some peace. And I wrote a bunch of songs, so it wasn’t unproductive. And people are nice around here,” he said, standing up and looking towards the village in the distance. His house was quite far away from them, but close to the coast, and in Louis’ opinion, that was what counted.  
“I’d never be able to live like that,” Niall said, bringing Louis back to earth.  
“You live to my old age, young man, and you’ll see,” Louis said through a smile and sat back down onto the sand, stretching his legs out.  
“Yeah, yeah. You are ancient, mate.”  
“Fuck off.”  
“You didn’t answer, by the way. When will I see you?”  
“Well, I want to wait for Cliff for a bit, you know?”  
“He still hasn’t returned?” Niall asked, and Louis could hug him right about now because of the concern that coloured his words.  
“Nope. But he is a good boy, he’ll find his way back. So whenever he is with me, I’m packing. Unless someone rents the guest house.”  
“Who’d want to freeze their arse off there? It’s still bloody cold.”  
“True. How is your album going?”  
“Ah,” Niall said and probably stretched. God, Louis missed him. “It’s almost there. Gonna have my single out this month.”  
“The one you sent to me?”  
“Yeah, I think it was the second one. What do you reckon?”  
“Sick, lad. Congratulations. Really proud of you.”  
“Thanks, Tommo,” Niall said and sounded happy. “Alright, then, I’ll be off. Call you some time this week, yeah?”  
“Sure. See you.”  
“You better. Bye,” Niall said and Louis chuckled before he hung up.  
He hadn’t seen Niall in ages and was missing him madly. Especially now that Clifford had run away. They saw each other last time about a year ago, when Niall came to visit right after his first world tour. That was the last time Louis saw his best mate, or anyone from the ‘previous life’ for that matter. But Niall didn’t last long here, and after they spent a few days chilling on the beach and visited the neighboring Laugharne and its castle, Louis had to admit there wasn’t much left to do. So he drove Niall to the airport and hugged him goodbye, promising to visit back some time soon.  
Louis closed his eyes and took a deep breath, smelling the salty sea and the wet soil. He opened his eyes with another small smile and tucked his earbuds away before gathering his flower boxes and the spade to go to the guest house and fix the area there.  
“Erm, Lou?” somebody asked behind him and Louis stopped dead. It couldn’t be that voice. No-no-no. Louis swallowed and slowly turned around, as his innards stopped working and his mind went white blank.  
Harry was smiling uncertainly at him, looking so much older than when Louis last saw him face to face. Louis felt a pang of pain sharp and right to his belly and bit his lip hard. It helped to focus on the man in front of him again, but it didn’t make it any easier to look at him. Louis felt physically sick.  
“Hey,” Harry said again, fixing his backpack on his shoulder. Louis was one second away from dropping everything onto the ground, but caught himself last second and gripped onto the spade tighter.  
“Harry?” he asked in a weak voice. Harry’s smile faltered, frown clouding his face. “What are you?.. How?.. What?..” Louis spluttered, his innards still not working. His brain was perfectly blank right now. Harry bit his cheek and looked down, Louis taking his first breath in what felt like hours. They were both silent for a moment, sea waves making soft sounds to their left. “Harry?” Louis tried again and Harry glanced up, but not at Louis. He was rather looking at his feet when he said:  
“You rent out a small house, right? I wanted to take it for a month.”  
“You what?” Louis said, finally letting his things fall to the ground.  
Harry’s head snapped up and he dropped his backpack at once, kneeling down and gathering Louis’ things. Louis just watched him, thinking that Harry’s blue jeans would probably get stained from the wet ground now. He swallowed and watched him gather everything in his hands and then straighten up again.  
“Here,” Harry said, handing him the items. Louis dropped his gaze to his hands, feeling surreal. He probably shouldn’t have done it, because the sight of the long pale fingers brought back memories which Louis swore to never have again and failed continually ever since.  
“Thanks,” Louis said, taking the broken flowers and his spade from Harry, careful not to touch his fingers. Harry took a step back at once, grabbing his backpack again. They looked at each other, Louis feeling his innards turn to jelly, the corners of his mouth dropping down. Pull yourself together, Tomlinson. You can do it. “So what did you want here?”  
“To rent a house? I found the location on the internet, and decided I’d give it a try. I want to try out new places for songwriting, you know? To have, like, a retreat and have some time to myself to focus on music,” Harry said in his slow thoughtful voice, looking at the ground again, and Louis hated the goosebumps it brought to his skin.  
“A retreat?”  
“Yeah. I like doing that. I did it for my first album, but I went to Jamaica that time, you know?”  
“So why not Jamaica now?” Louis asked bluntly, his mind still not quite catching up to his words, and watched Harry’s face fall. He didn’t know whether it made him happier or sadder. Probably both. Harry’s hand gripped the strap of his bag tighter and he said:  
“I wanted something closer to- closer to home,” he said, whispered almost, looking guilty but sure. Louis swallowed past the lump in his throat. Home. Funny, that one.  
“Right,” he said, still unable to unglue his eyes from Harry’s now short hair. He looked so fucking different to what Louis remembered, and yet the same. He had a small clip in his hair, keeping it away from his face, which made him look very lovely. But Louis didn’t have mental resources to think about it without going mad, so he wouldn’t do it.  
Harry glanced at him and Louis just blinked.  
“Would you check me in, then?” Harry said, now looking him in the eye. Louis nodded, not trusting his voice, and thinking that checking Harry in was probably the last thing he should do right now. Yet there he was, leading Harry, of all people, to the guest house.  
This could not be real. No fucking way was it real. But then he heard Harry’s footsteps behind him, the sound he knew so well, that it drove the suspicion of the hallucination right out. It was happening. Harry was renting his guest house. Shit.  
Louis slowed down and stopped in front of the porch, feeling Harry stop a few feet behind him. He bent down and put his flowers and spade onto the steps before reaching for his keychain and unlocking the doors. He flung them open and turned towards Harry, gesturing for him to come in first.  
“Thank you,” Harry muttered, stepping past and Louis caught his breath again, because Harry smelled exactly the same.  
“No problem,” he said back stupidly and stepped in after Harry. He found him looking around the small hall with his back on Louis.  
“It’s nice in here,” he said without looking towards him and Louis was grateful for that.  
“Thanks,” he said, opening the first door.  
He stepped into the living room and reached the small bureau where he kept his empty forms. He took one out and turned around only to find Harry hovering by the open doors and looking into the room.  
“You can come in, you know,” Louis said, pretending to be busy with the papers. “You are going to live here, after all.”  
“Right,” Harry said, stepping inside and looking around that room as well. Louis glanced at him again and noticed that his knees were indeed stained from before.  
“Sorry about the jeans,” he said before he could stop himself. Harry turned to him at once and frowned, confused. “Your knees,” Louis gestured. Harry looked down.  
“Oh, shit,” he said, dropping his backpack and trying to wipe off some dirt with his hands. Louis bit his lip hard again, turning away and placing the papers and the pen onto the bureau.  
“There is a small shop in the village, if you want, and you have a washing machine in the bathroom. I think if you put them in today they should be fine,” he said quietly and noticed Harry pause to his right.  
“Since when do you know how to wash your clothes?” Harry asked, straightening up and sounding amused.  
“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Louis said and shrugged. “Right,” he said, glancing at Harry and nodding at the papers. “You need to fill out these, and I’ll do the rest on my own. Just your personal info and the day by which you plan to move out, shouldn’t take long,” Louis said and stepped back, letting Harry get closer to the papers.  
“Thank you,” Harry said and bent down.  
Louis watched him as he scribbled away; he thought Harry looked a bit bigger now, even. Though maybe it was the short hair Louis was so not used to. His skin was very pale, his cross tattoo standing out against his skin beautifully. Louis always loved Harry’s hands, even just watching them, he remembered. Harry straightened up and Louis schooled his features back into what he hoped was indifference.  
“Here,” Harry said with a small smile and handed him the papers.  
“Alright then,” Louis said as he folded and tucked them into his back pocket, painfully aware of just how dirty his clothes probably were. “The village is a walk away, so if you need anything you can go there. The city is a few miles away, but I have a car you can borrow if you need to. Any questions?”  
“Erm, no, I think I’ll manage,” Harry said, looking around the room again and Louis couldn’t tell whether he was avoiding his eye or genuinely interested in the interior.  
“I’ll be off, then. Your keys are in the kitchen on the fridge,” Louis said, already taking steps backwards and pointing at the entrance. Harry nodded at him, still looking at the walls. Louis turned around and almost made it to the door, when he heard:  
“Oh, Lou, wait!” he heard footsteps and turned around, feeling queasy. Harry stopped a few feet away and was rummaging through his backpack.  
“Yes?” Louis asked faintly.  
“The rent! I need to pay you, I forgot,” Harry said, finally extracting his wallet and taking some money out.  
“Oh,” Louis said, relaxing a bit.  
“Here, it’s enough for one month, right?” Harry said as he handed him the notes.  
“Yeah,” Louis said and took them without looking. Harry’s eyes were very, very green. “Thanks. Enjoy your stay and all that,” he said awkwardly, pushing the doors open and stepping out onto the porch.  
He closed the doors before Harry could say anything else and leant against them for a second, eyes closed. He felt sick and nauseated, but at the same time his brain kept feeding him memories, happy memories he really didn’t want to have anymore. Louis opened his eyes and watched the sea for a second. He stood straight suddenly, as if the doors were burning him, and all but ran to his house, forgetting about the flowerbeds and his utensils on Harry’s porch.  
Harry’s porch, ha! Fucking hell, Louis never thought he’d see the man again. He made it to his house just in time and ran straight for the bathroom, feeling sicker by the second. He bent over the toilet, but nothing came out. Louis scrunched up his face and sat down on the floor, leaning against the cold tiles. Fucking hell. He didn’t even have Cliff to share the burden with. He probably should have said no to Harry, no matter how rude that would have been. What was he thinking even? Yeah, lad, come on I’d check you in, no biggie. Just that we fucking broke up three years ago after five years of dating. Yeah, of course, it’s nothing. Abso-fucking-lutely.  
Louis fished out his phone and dialled Niall.  
“Tommo? What’s up?” Niall said, muffled voices in the background.  
“Harry is here,” Louis said, feeling relief spread through his veins. He didn’t know why sharing that with Niall helped, but it did.  
“Shh,” Niall said and Louis frowned. “Gimme five minutes,” he said, his voice muffled and Louis remembered that he must be in the studio by now. Shit.  
“Nialler, I’m sorry, I forgot about the studio.”  
“It’s alright. What did you say about H?” he said, the sound of the door closing afterwards.  
“He rented my fucking guest house!” Louis said, biting at his finger so as not to puke. “Said he wants a writing retreat or some shite. What do I do?”  
“He came?” Niall said, sounding incredulous. “Shite, I didn’- Wow, Tommo.”  
“And he said he’s gonna stay for a month! How did he even find me? Did he know I was the manager here? I don’t use Louis Tomlinson on my webpage, what are even the odds? What the hell, Nialler? How in the world-”  
“Tommo, calm down, bud, and fucking breathe, alright? Come on, one in, one out.”  
“I’m not having a panic attack, Horan.”  
“You sound like you do, so take a breather, alright?”  
Louis rolled his eyes.  
“Tommo. I don’t hear the breath.”  
“This is pathetic,” Louis said, feeling foolish for being asked to breathe.  
“Come on, you dick, you’ll feel better.”  
“Alright, alright,” Louis said, flushing. He took a loud inhale and an exhale, feeling a bit lighter. “Pleased?”  
“Feeling better?”  
“A bit,” Louis said, remembering what he phoned for in the first place. “What do I do, Nialler? How do I handle this?”  
“Take it easy, okay? Harry is not a monster. He’ll probably just be on his own anyway, writing the tunes and stuff.”  
“He’ll live a few feet away for a bloody month! How am I supposed to take it easy?”  
“How will it make it any better if you worry? Calm down for starters, and be cool. You can do this, three years have past, for fuck’s sake. And you were pretty good with each other before, right?”  
“Yes, but we were dating from the get-go! I’ve never been friends with him even!”  
“What’s the difference between dating and friends except for sex?” Niall said and Louis could hear his smile.  
“Don’t talk about sex to me, okay?”  
“Then go get laid and stop fussing about it.”  
“Oi, fuck off.”  
Niall laughed on the other end and Louis felt mildly better. Like a pointy finger compared to the whole body better.  
“I’m gotta go mate, you’d be alright there? Want me to call Harry and ask him to leave?”  
“What? No! That’s pathetic and suspicious, and- He already paid and everything,” Louis finished weakly. Niall laughed again.  
“So it’s not that bad now, ey?”  
“Bye, Horan.”  
“Love you too, Tommo.”  
Louis threw his phone onto the tiled floor, which probably would get him another few cracks on the screen, but he didn’t care. He took a few deep breaths and made himself stand up, feeling marginally better. When he emerged into the kitchen, he heard footsteps and froze. Louis looked carefully into the window, making sure he wasn’t seen from the outside and saw Harry walking away from Louis’ door, hands in his pockets and new gray trousers on. He looked a bit ridiculous in them, but Louis guessed he was the only one able to pull them off. He watched Harry’s figure disappear into the village, and finally stepped away from the window. He opened his front doors and found all his forgotten utensils neatly stacked in a small wooden case he kept in the cupboard under the stairs in the guesthouse. He let a small smile escape him as he took the box in.  
He didn’t leave the house for the rest of the day, busying himself with cleaning and fixing the damage he’d done to the flowers. He ended up throwing a few broken ones away, and really considered doing the guest house’s front yard later this year. Once Harry left, that is.  
He sort of knew he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep that night. Truth be told, ever since Cliff ran away six days ago, what Louis considered to be the calming quiet of his house before grew eery, and he had trouble staying there alone at night. So he would wake up before dusk like he did that morning and set to doing something. Or he would go out to the sea and watch the water, waiting for the day to take mercy on him and ease him to sleep.  
So he chucked on a few sweaters and his huge jacket, eyeing the dog leash for just a second before stepping outside into the chilly air. He plopped down onto his blanket a few feet away from the water that was never quite still. The sky was clear for once, the stars populating the darkness. He thought of the saying of the old kings watching him, and how he used to tell it to his sisters when he was young. They would go out in summer and sit in the backyard in the middle of the night, watching and watching and watching the stars, making wishes and talking about what was up there. He hoped his mum was watching him.  
He remembered the time he drove Harry home to Doncaster for the first time, and how he showed him the stars, too. His sisters were there, Phoebe and Daisy already with their heads in Harry’s lap. Louis remembered he couldn’t really contain his smile looking at them. Lottie just squeezed his hand when he would stare for too long, and he’d remember that he was telling a story about someone, and resume, others listening.  
Harry and Louis had their first kiss under the open sky as well. They went out and spent the evening walking London, exploring the city and each other. They talked and talked and talked that night. It was the first time they had spent one-on-one, and it was absolutely wonderful. They just walked side by side, not even touching, but Harry’s presence was warm and certain by his side. He saw Harry home late that night, after they’d walked a good few miles and their feet were sore. But Louis remembered that excitement bubbling in him; something that he always, always felt around the man.  
“Thanks for the evening, Harry,” he said that night, smiling softly at the boy.  
“Yeah, we should do that again some time,” Harry said, fluffing up his curls. “I really enjoyed it,” he said and Louis remembered how he blushed at the words, which caused Louis himself to smile even softer.  
“Harry?” he asked then, taking a small step closer.  
“Lou?” Harry said in a small voice, his eyebrows frowning, but his eyes flickering to Louis’ mouth.  
“Can I kiss you?” Louis asked, looking him in the eye. “Please?”  
Harry nodded, his eyes wide, and Louis smiled at him.  
“Alright, then,” he muttered with a low chuckle, Harry watching him in a sort of awe. Louis placed a gentle hand into the curls and softly drawn him closer till their lips were touching. Harry was warm and fluttering against him, like a butterfly. He answered to the kiss and put his warm hands on Louis’ waist, a thin veil of air still between them. Louis pecked him softly on the corner of his mouth and leant back, his hands resting on Harry’s shoulders.  
“Alright?” he asked.  
“Yep,” Harry said with a huge grin and pecked Louis, too. “I feel very happy,” he said when he leant back. Louis flushed.  
“Me, too.”  
Louis emerged back into reality with a tender smile on his face. But then he heard a door close gently behind him and turned around. There was noone there and Louis frowned. Then he saw movement behind the curtain in Harry’s house and felt relief circling through him, which got quickly replaced by panic. Was Harry watching him? Did he want to join and thought better of it last second?  
Louis turned back to look at the starry sky, but the moment was gone. He stood up and shook the sand off the blanket before making a beeline for his own house, hoping to finally fall asleep that night.


	2. 2

Louis woke up to the darkness in the room. The sun still hadn’t risen. He groaned and turned around, trying to fall asleep again, but felt too awake. He tossed and turned on his bed until he gave up completely and threw the covers off.  
“Damn it,” he muttered, trotting down the stairs into the kitchen.  
The floor felt cold against his bare feet as he tiptoed to the kettle in darkness, almost jumping to get as less contact with the freezing wood as possible. He really needed to buy a rug. Once the kettle was on he ran back into his bedroom and pulled on a fresh pair of woolen socks, exhaling with relief. He chucked on a hoodie onto his sleeping shirt, deeming the sweats he was in enough of protection. The kettle was already whistling by the time he got back, and so Louis grit his teeth and turned the lights on, hissing and squinting his eyes against the bright lamp. Once he adjusted, he set about making a cup of tea. He could hear the sea rustling outside, and decided to spend the morning out there; he had enough songs to last him a lifetime, anyway. Not precisely true, but he could take a day off.   
He trotted into the hall, hands gripping the hot cup, the steam warming his face. He put the cup onto the shelf on the wall and put on his shoes and jacket, before leaving the house. It was still dark outside, and completely quiet but for the water throwing itself forward and back.   
Sitting there this morning reminded him of the night before. He simultaneously hated and loved having memories about Harry. He loved them because they filled him with warmth and light right to the brim, but once he’d come back to reality they’d leave him hollow and sad. He promised himself a lot of times to get over their past relationship and continuously failed at the attempt. He supposed it was high time he moved on; he had to sacrifice the memories and leave them be before he would be able to find someone new, someone equally important to him. Though the Louis that’d be capable of such changes seemed a long way away. The Louis that sat on the beach in the south of Wales had run away once his life turned into chaos. The band’s hiatus, the break-up and then mum’s death — it’s just too much for a person to handle. It’s a hell of a task to solve it all, and so Louis just ran as fast as he could once that all happened. He bought the place, booked the ticket and in no time at all found himself in the middle of nowhere. He didn’t even rent the guest house for the first half a year, only spending his time with Clifford. He barely got out into the village, too. But then the burden of solitude became too much, and Niall had said Louis couldn’t live like that forever, and so Louis pushed one of the walls he’d built. He started renting the guest house out, which meant he had a person nearby most of the year. Sometimes it was a dickhead and sometimes it was someone fun, but as long as they were humans, Louis was happy, really.  
He used to be so social. Parties, concerts, red-carpets. Always watched, always judged, always criticised. If there was one thing he loved about the last three years of his life then it would have to be that he became his only judge. And that was a huge relief; that was a rock lifted off his shoulders. For the first few weeks by the sea Louis spent hours and hours on end just watching the water and breathing; breathing, because it somehow felt easier here. He felt free and independent.   
The sun started peeking from behind the horizon, dazzling white and promising of warmth. Louis set his empty cup by his side and just watched, thinking that he wouldn’t ever get tired of it. He supposed that was the beauty of nature — one can’t get used to it. He met almost three years worth of sunrises here, but he still enjoyed the sight. He rested his chin on his knees and watched the sun rise higher and higher, the water reflecting all the colours. He got so lost in the scene that he didn’t hear the footsteps.  
“Hey Lou!” Harry said from behind and Louis almost jumped. He turned around to see Harry jogging away in shorts and a tee — he must be freezing — and waving at him with a smile.  
“You scared me!” Louis said, trying to calm his breathing.   
“Sorry!” Harry shouted at him, running away still.   
Louis had half the mind to join him, but thought better of it. Instead, he watched Harry’s back retreat, his calf muscles flexing from running in the sand. Must be hard to do, Louis thought. But then he realized he was staring and looked away, shaking his head. If Harry would disrupt his mornings like that, Louis would really need to talk to him or rethink his morning routine. He gathered his cup and blanket and walked into the house, cursing under his breath.  
Who did Harry think he was? What made him think he could break into Louis’ life like that? Why him exactly? Why not any other bloody place on earth?  
Louis entered the kitchen and put the cup into the sink, frowning. The questions flew through his mind like bullets, so quick he forgot about them in seconds. He leant against the counter, his arms folded. Is it fate that brought them together? Was Louis finally given a chance to set his life in order? No, it didn’t work like that. Besides, thinking that way was dangerous. Louis could not afford another mistake. He had to move on.   
He set about preparing his breakfast, which really meant choco-pops and milk, but whatever. Having breakfast felt like an adult thing to do, and Louis really needed to feel grown-up. Fake it till you make it and all that.  
He got out onto the porch and sat down into one of the chairs, propping his socked feet on the next chair and resting the bowl on his tummy. The skies were cloudy today, the sun now hidden behind the clouds high up. But the line above the horizon was clear light blue and pink, the edges of the clouds white and fluffy. He saw a small boat in the water not too far away from where the village lay. Harry was nowhere to be seen and Louis briefly wondered if he got recognized by a fan or something. Because Harry Styles was a fucking celebrity.  
He was finishing his cereal when he saw a figure appear from the side of the village. If Louis had to trust the long legs in the shortest shorts possible to still be called shorts in the middle of an almost frosty morning, then it had to be Harry. Sure enough, after a minute Louis could make out his face if he tried; if he tried, because he wasn’t doing any such thing. Instead, he stared into his now empty bowl, still feeling hungry and very aware of Harry’s eyes on him.  
“Hey Lou!” he heard the second time that morning and bit his lip before looking up. Harry stood a few feet away from the porch, on Louis’ garden path, his trainers stained from the sand. The gray tee was dark with sweat which looked absolutely revolting — except it didn’t — and Harry himself was breathing deeply, his chest heaving up and down in a rhythm. Louis briefly thought that the butterfly tattooed onto his skin was probably fluttering her wings right now, but no. Stop it, Tomlinson, right now. Louis smiled wide and fake at him and Harry’s kind expression faltered.  
“Had a good jog?” Louis asked.  
“Yeah, I-” Harry said and glanced at his feet, running a hand through his hair. He was holding a paper bag in the other. “I bought some pastries,” he said then, looking back up and waving the bag in front of him. “I thought we could maybe have some breakfast together?” he said, eyebrows raised and the hopeful smile back on.  
“A breakfast?”   
“Yeah, you know,” Harry said with a shrug. “I mean, only if you want to, of course.”  
“Well I don’t,” Louis said and stood up, Harry’s eyes never leaving him. Louis took his bowl and nodded to his door. “Have things to do. Enjoy your breakfast,” he said with a polite smile and turned to leave, having decided to treat Harry like any other customer he had.   
“Thanks,” he heard Harry say more quietly. “Good luck with your things,” he said then, right before Louis closed the doors.   
Louis bit his lip and leant against the doors, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. He took a deep breath in and let the air out slowly, feeling his body sink lower. He heard Harry’s doors close and knew Harry was out of sight completely now, even though Louis couldn’t see his doors from his hallway. He slid down onto the floor, the welcome rug coarse against his backside. Louis banged his head against the wooden doors a few times for good measure, but it didn’t bring any magical solution to mind.  
“Why me?” he whispered into his hands, eyes closed. “What did I fucking do?”  
He had no clue whom he was addressing. Maybe even himself, for that matter. He was probably the right person to blame for all the shite that had happened to him so far.   
***  
Louis ended up by the shore that night again. The darkness was around him, enveloping him, hiding him from everyone else and himself. He gazed at the never resting waters, thinking that the sea probably led a pretty boring life. It must be tired.  
He thought what would happen if he never left the place. If he didn’t come back to making music and giving concerts and having a life he used to have. Would he feel fulfilled? Would he be satisfied? Would it still feel like living and not just waiting for his days to end? Twenty seven was probably a bit too early to think about death, but it could be figurative. Would he still be himself if he chose to stay here permanently? Louis felt fear freeze him. No, no, no. He would come back. Just let Cliff return and Harry leave, and Louis would pack the same day and leave.   
‘If I’m to fall, would you be there to applaud?’ — who would be there to see him fall though? Niall was in London, his childhood friends and family in Doncaster; he was completely by himself now.  
He heard the door close behind him again and then footsteps muffled by the sand. Harry. Right now he had Harry, but it probably wasn’t for the better. Definitely wasn’t.  
He saw him out of the corner of his eyes and grit his teeth. Harry stopped a few feet away to his left and turned to him.  
“Do you mind?” he asked softly, gesturing to the sand at his feet.   
Louis just shook his head, looking at the water but not really seeing it. When Harry sat down, Louis looked over at him.   
“Here,” Louis said, taking off one of the two jackets he put on for the cold night and handing it to Harry. Harry just frowned and shook his head. “Come on, you don’t want to freeze your bum off. The sand is cold,” Louis said, nodding at were Harry was sitting on the ground without any blanket. Harry took the jacket tentatively and nodded.  
“Thank you,” he said quietly and Louis turned to the sea again.  
They both watched the black water, endless against the horizon. Everything around them was dark, rare stars peeking from behind the clouds and the yellow torch on Louis’ porch. This was new for them, Louis thought. They never really had the chance to sit and watch something as magnificent. They somehow always had concerts and parties to attend to at night, and if they didn’t, they chose to stay in the hotel room and fool around. Those nights, boy, they were something else. Louis smiled bitterly and chuckled, remembering how different his life used to be.   
“What is it?” Harry asked, barely audible.  
“Nothing,” Louis said softly back, no hint of the morning bitterness in his voice. Perhaps that’s what prompted Harry to push.  
“Come on, Lou,” he said and Louis could feel him watching. He found himself smiling, genuinely. He looked at the sea and said to Harry:  
“I just thought that I’m living like a monk now. I mean, not completely, but compared to how wild we sometimes went on the road,” Louis said with another chuckle. There was a moment’s silence, then Harry asked, voice amused.  
“Wild? What do you mean?”  
“Well, smoking weed, nicking stuff, fucking, for that matter,” he said raising his eyebrows briefly and feeling the rush of blood to his face. He was grateful for the darkness.  
“Oh,” Harry said and Louis balled his hands into fists to not turn and watch his expression. He would really regret telling that to Harry the next day. “Erm, yeah. That- that was wild, I agree. I miss it, you know?” he said, and Louis thought he heard a confident man behind the words, not the cowering teen he got to know at the x-factor. Not that Harry wasn’t confident by the time they broke up, of course. Louis just couldn’t help noticing more and more differences in somehow the same person from three years ago.  
“Yeah, me too.”  
“Do you plan to go back to music, then? Build a solo career?”  
“I think so, yeah. I can’t see myself living here for the rest of my life,” Louis said and shrugged, resting his chin on his knees. He felt calm now, as if he was talking to an old friend. He didn’t know he could be that with Harry of all people.  
“Good,” Harry said softly and Louis looked at him properly now. He was sitting cross legged on Louis’ jacket, his hands curled in his lap.  
“Good?” Louis said, snapping his gaze away from Harry’s fingers and up to his face.  
“I would really like to see you going solo. I think people need an artist like you.”  
“But you don’t know what kind of artist I am, Harry,” Louis said, turning away, and pressed his forehead to his knees. “Maybe my music is another crappy pop-song that would die in a week at best.”  
“You cannot be sure until you put it out there.”  
“I suppose,” Louis said and shrugged.   
They fell into silence and Louis kept his eyes closed. He didn’t know how much time had passed when Harry broke the peace with a tentative:  
“Lou?”  
“Yes?”  
“Can I ask you something?”  
“Go on.”  
“Was it- If you don’t want to answer, I’ll understand, but- I had a concert during my first tour in that small place in London,” he said and Louis felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He gripped the fabric of his sweats in his hands very tight, but didn’t look at Harry, still curled up on himself. “And Niall was there, and he didn’t- I mean, fans knew about it, and it was in the press and all. But- Erm...” Harry said and Louis could see him fidget. “Anyway, I thought I saw you up in those seats that are like above everyone? Were you there?”  
Louis thought his heart was beating so loud Harry was sure to hear it. He tried to swallow past it beating in his throat but felt suffocated.  
“If you don’t want to answer, it’s okay. I’m sorry to ask, I just really wanted to know. Nialler never said anything about it, even when I asked, but- I just- I guess I’m confused.”  
Louis kept silent and didn’t look at Harry. They spent another few minutes in silence.  
“Lou, I’m sorry, are you okay?” Harry said and Louis felt a warm hand on his shoulder. He shrug it off at once and looked at Harry. Harry was frowning, his eyes looked hurt. “Sorry,” he said, standing up. “Shouldn’t have asked.”  
“Yeah,” said Louis and stood up, not looking at him. “You really shouldn’t have.”  
“But why would you come to my concert?” Harry asked then and Louis froze.  
“Who said I did?” he asked into nothingness, his back to Harry.  
“Who said you didn’t?”  
“You think we are joking?” Louis said and turned to Harry, frowning deep. He was probably scowling even. Harry looked taken aback. “What makes you think you can come back to my life and just push in with questions like that?”  
“But we were talking and I thought- I thought you were okay with it,” Harry said, taking a step back.  
“Then don’t think, Harry, because it’s clearly not working!” Louis said, voice rising.  
“Why are you shouting at me?” Harry said loudly. He was frowning, too. “It’s not like I’m to blame for our break-up.”  
“Oh, isn’t it? Was it me who wanted to make music and build a solo career?”  
“That doesn’t mean I wanted to end a relationship with you!” Harry said, stepping forward and pointing at him. Louis stepped back, scowling harder.  
“Don’t you dare blame it on me, Harry! My life was falling apart, and you said we might better end us then!”  
“It’s not like I meant it! And I didn’t know you would take it seriously!”  
“How was I supposed to take it? As a joke?!”  
They glared at each other for a few seconds, Louis’ breathing loud and heavy. Then, Harry turned around, straight as a stick, and walked towards his house. Louis shouted after him:  
“Does it mean you are moving out?”  
“No!” Harry shouted back without turning around.  
“What do you mean ‘no’?” Louis said, surprised.  
“I’m having a retreat, remember? Meeting you doesn’t have anything to do with it,” Harry said it with his back still on Louis. He was standing in front of his door now, gripping the handle.   
“Fine,” Louis spit out. “Just make sure I don’t see you as much as possible, will you?”  
He saw Harry wince at the words, and the apology was already halfway up his throat, but he swallowed it just in time, willing himself into resentment.  
“Fine,” Harry said quieter and entered the house, slamming the doors behind him.  
Louis picked up his jacket he lent to Harry not an hour ago and left for his house, his heart still beating fast. It felt hurt and exposed right now, as if somebody peppered it with broken glass and Louis was bleeding. Was it possible for a heart to bleed?  
He entered the house hurt and fuming and ran to his bedroom, throwing himself onto the bed, memories flooding his head.   
It happened about a year or so after their break up. Niall mentioned he was going to see Harry perform and Louis froze mid cooking.  
“Tommo, you alright?”  
“Yeah. Sorry.”  
“Wanna come with me?” Niall asked then, sounding tentative.  
“I-” Louis said, not knowing what to say. “I don’t think it will look good. And the Internet would blow up if someone saw me there. And if he, you know… I wouldn’t know what to do.”  
The words poured out of Louis, as if they’ve just been waiting for the question.  
“We could get you into a VIP box or something? Shouldn’t be many people there?”  
“Or I could buy out all the seats?” Louis said and blushed. “Shit, I’m so pathetic.”  
“Shut it, Tommo. You want to see H or not?”  
“I suppose.”  
A few months later they stood in front of the building, Louis’ heart clenching with pain and fear.  
“Come on,” Niall said and nodded to the back entrance. They entered unnoticed by the fans and Louis pulled his hood higher. “You alright?” Niall asked quietly as they stopped by the still empty seats.  
“Yeah, just- I guess I’m nervous.”  
“The attention will be on me, don’t worry. Nobody expects you here, yeah?”  
“Yeah.”  
They went up the stairs to the VIP boxes, sitting side by side in the shadows. Louis couldn’t quite bring himself to speak, so he kept silent, letting Niall rant about something. When the show was about to begin, Niall left him with a clap on the shoulder to go to the rest of the crowd and be seen. Louis loved him so fucking much.  
Now that Niall was gone, Louis felt like buying out the whole VIP box was a silly idea. For one, he was completely alone and felt even more agitated; but also now he’d probably be seen even better. Shit.   
He sat at the very back, praying that Harry wouldn’t try to see who exactly was up there. Why would he?   
So Louis waited, biting his nails, and when the lights went all dark except for the stage, his breath caught. Harry appeared, hair shorter than now even, smiling wide. He was wearing a ridiculous suit, and Louis thought he looked like an idiot, but he really had not time to mock Harry. He was entranced by his voice which thundered around the small venue they were in. Louis even closed his eyes for a few seconds, trying to calm his heart down. It didn’t help though. It didn’t fucking help because next second Harry started playing and Louis lost it. He bit his lip very hard and just watched the boy he saw grow up from a shy and awkward teenager into that beautiful, beautiful man. Louis was one sniff away from crying, and decided he was glad no one was near to see it.  
Harry was talking to the crowd when their eyes met. Harry’s gaze just swept past him, but it was enough for Louis to run to the stairs. It all happened in the matter of seconds, and by the time Harry paused and probably looked back up, Louis was already halfway down the stairs, cursing himself for coming here. He didn’t stop till he was outside, breathing fast and shallow. He shot a text to Niall, saying he was going back to Niall’s place before taking the cab. Fucking hell.  
Louis turned over in his bed, wishing he could disappear into the thin air. How should he talk to Harry now? Would they spend the next month being silent around each other? Should Louis apologise? What for though?   
Louis groaned and got under the covers completely. The sleep came a few hours later.

The next morning found Louis squinting against the sun and pissed at everything while he was waiting for his kettle to boil. A knock on the door didn’t help the matter either. Louis gave himself a once over in the mirror in the hall, noticing another stain on his sweats. At least his shirt was clean. He opened the doors with one foot on top of the other, arms folded.  
“Hi,” Harry said without a smile. Louis swallowed, bracing himself. Was Harry finally leaving?  
“Hello. What’s up?”  
“I wanted to apologise for yesterday. I don’t want to spend the next month avoiding you,” Harry said looking Louis straight in the eye. Louis didn’t know if he himself was strong enough to do that. “What do you say?” Harry added.  
“Yeah, alright. I can do that,” Louis said, nodding, and leant his shoulder against the wall. Harry’s gaze travelled to the place where Louis’ sleeve ended and his tattooed wrist appeared. “Is that all?” Louis said loudly and Harry looked back at him, a hint of the former shy boy showing through those green, green eyes. After a second his face hardened.  
“Yeah, that’s all I wanted to say. Have a good day, Louis,” he said without a smile again, and Louis felt a pang of something in his hollow chest. He watched Harry go away, his muscles tense, and closed the doors only when he disappeared into the village.  
Louis came back into the kitchen and found his tea almost pitch-black.  
“Shit,” he muttered. “Fuck you, Harry,” he poured the spoiled tea into the sink and set about making a fresh cup.  
He hadn’t seen Harry all day. In fact, Louis didn’t even know if he had come back from the village or not. He kept glancing into the window whenever he passed it, but to no success. He felt frustrated at the fact that he even cared. By the time the night approached Louis was angry at himself for thinking about Harry. The day was a complete failure in terms of being productive, since all he could do was think about him.   
He was in his bedroom getting ready for bed when he glimpsed a light in the window of the guest house. Louis hated the relieved sigh that escaped him at the sight of Harry. He was sitting right by the opened window, gazing at the sea with his hand under his chin. The other hand was playing with a pen, long fingers turning it over and over. Louis had to close his eyes for a moment to make the memory go away. When he opened them, Harry was gone. Louis frowned, trying to see another lit window, but the house was dark. Louis was about to call it a day and get into bed when the front doors opened and Harry stepped out, bundled up in a huge scarf. Louis watched him walk down the path and right to the beach. He sat in the same place he sat the day before, without any blanket. It was a near miss for Louis not to roll his eyes. What an idiot, he thought.  
Harry sat with his back to Louis, his silhouette dark against the moon. He was hunched in on himself, hands probably in the pockets, though he wasn’t close enough for Louis to see. He sat motionless, lonely, as if forgotten by somebody on the shore. Louis watched him, feeling his heart clench. Harry looked small and unprotected, and all Louis really wanted to do is sit there by his side and cuddle. Instead, he stepped away from the window, wiping at his eyes with his hand and got into bed, trying to think of anything but Harry. He failed.


	3. 3

The next day wasn’t any different, nor the next day nor the day after that. Louis lost count of how long their silence had lasted. Even when he did get outside, he didn’t see Harry at all. He didn’t know when he got up, if he went to the village or not, when he went to sleep. If not for Harry spending every evening by the sea, curled in on himself and so very small, Louis would have thought he had moved out.  
Louis felt guilty for being so cold. He couldn’t bring himself to be angry at Harry anymore; and hell he tried. He tried to tell Niall how much he hated the man, how he was angry and frustrated, but all that came out was his weak voice.  
“You are ridiculous, Tommo.”  
“Why?” Louis asked, stood by the window in late April and watching Harry on the shore. It was a windy and cold night and his hair kept flipping, but Harry wasn’t moving.  
“Just talk to him. Tell him you feel sorry.”  
“I can’t!” Louis said and stepped away from the window as if it burned him.   
“Why? Your crown would fall?” Niall asked through a chuckle.  
“Oi! I’m not like that, you know it.”  
“Then go and fucking talk to him, alright? He didn’t call me all week, and we usually talk over the weekends. The lad is upset, and it’s because of you.”  
“Oh, cheers, mate, you are an awesome support.”  
Niall laughed on the other end.  
“You know what I’m talking about. Honestly, life was so much easier when you two were together.”  
“Niall!”  
“What? I’m speaking the truth! Honesty is the best policy and all that.”  
Louis sighed.  
“I guess I’ll go?” he asked weakly, already going down the stairs. If he didn’t do it now, he wouldn’t do it at all.  
“That’s my boy. Use a condom!”  
“Idiot,” Louis muttered before hanging up.  
He grabbed his coat and two blankets before leaving the house. Harry didn’t turn around, though Louis was sure he could hear the footsteps. When Louis was stood right behind Harry, he bit his lip and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to calm his heart down. When he opened them, he saw Harry’s knuckles going white from where he was gripping the fabric of his jeans on his knees. Louis bent down and put a blanket around his shoulders.  
“Here,” he said quietly, straightening up. He threw the second blanket right beside Harry and plopped down on top of it. “It’s a cold night,” he said, gazing at the sea.  
“Yeah,” Harry said, watching the sea as well. He shifted, bringing some blanket under his bum. “Thank you.”  
“Don’t wanna freeze your bum, eh?”  
“Does it mean we are good now?” Harry said, ignoring Louis’ remark. Louis looked at him only to find Harry already staring back.  
“I feel stupid acting like nothing ever happened, so,” Louis said with a shrug, eyes somewhere on Harry’s eyebrows.  
“Okay,” Harry said, slowly, looking Louis in the eye. Louis swallowed and turned back to the sea.  
“Let’s just not make it weird, alright?” he said, as Harry turned away as well. They sat side by side, their shoulders an inch apart.  
“Weird?”  
“You know what I mean.”  
There was a pause during which neither looked at each other. Then,  
“I loved you, you know,” Harry said very quietly, but surely. There was another pause, in which Louis couldn’t breathe. Instead, he fisted his hands in the blanket to remind himself to stay grounded. He could see Harry gazing at the sea, his body motionless. “From the very first day. I never thought one could have something like that,” he added just as quietly, but there again was an air of certainty, of confidence, if you will. If Louis wasn’t so terrified of the words he would probably admire this about Harry.  
“Why are you saying it?” Louis squeezed out past the lump in his throat. He saw Harry shrug out of the corner of his eye.  
“Feels right. Maybe I didn’t tell it to you enough back then.”  
Louis blinked and a tear ran down his face. He swallowed, trying to make his body behave, but it wouldn’t oblige. He felt a few more tears fall from his eyes and Harry continued:  
“And I really tried to hate you when we broke up.”  
“Harry,” Louis croaked, looking over at him, but Harry was still gazing forward, either pretending to or really not noticing Louis’ reaction.  
“I was apathetic. I couldn’t do anything after you’ve gone. I’d just lay in my bed and stare at the ceiling for days. I guess I’ve just spent too much time with you and sort of didn’t know how to live without you. And what frustrated me most was that I didn’t know where you were. Niall wouldn’t tell me anything back then, even though I- I wasn’t in my best shape.”  
“He didn’t know,” Louis said, barely audible. “I didn’t tell anyone at first. Not a soul,” he said, now looking at the water. The tears had stopped, but now he felt in pain. So much pain that it was difficult to breathe, so he had to pinch his arm to stay grounded. It felt like his lungs had swollen and wouldn’t let the air in. He didn’t know how he hadn’t passed out yet. All he could do was listen to Harry’s quiet confession. It felt ethereal.  
“I couldn’t even apologise. I couldn’t set it right even if you didn’t want to go back into a relationship with me. But I couldn’t be angry for long. I’d last like a day or two and then I’d feel miserable for hating you,” Harry said and paused. Louis closed his eyes, trying to numb the pain inside. It was like an open wound pulsating inside him. All his innards were aching.   
“Did- Did you ever love me, Lou?” Harry asked into nothingness, voice a hint uncertain. Louis swallowed past the lump again and turned to him. Harry finally looked back and Louis saw that his eyes were wet, too. Louis nodded, looking him in the eye and trying to put in it everything he had ever felt for the man.  
“Yes, Harry. Of course,” he whispered and Harry nodded. They turned to look at the sea again. “I never had a chance,” Louis said through a weak smile and heard Harry chuckle wetly.  
“Me too,” he said quietly into the night and that was it.   
The silence fell on them, giving them time to calm the tears. Louis’ cheeks prickled where the wind blew against them, his eyes were probably red and irritated. But he sat there still, gazing into the dark waters and feeling better than he did in a long time. Harry’s warmth was grounding by his side, even though they still weren’t close enough to touch.  
After what felt like hours, pleasant hours, they both got up and looked at each other. Harry handed Louis his blanket, looking timid, his red eyes shining with something new.  
“Thank you.”  
“Take it with you. I don’t want you to freeze if you are ever going to sit out here again,” Louis said, pushing it back gently. Harry smiled at him.  
“Thanks. Good night, Lou,” he said, stepping back and hugging the blanket to his chest.  
“Night, Harry,” Louis smiled back and Harry turned away, soon disappearing into the house.  
‘be proud of me’ he sent to Niall before entering the house and heading for the bed.  
* * *  
Louis’ head was aching slightly when he woke up the next day. It took a moment to remember what had happened last night, but when he did, he smiled. Louis rolled out of bed and a few minutes later entered the kitchen, freshly showered and finally awake. It was another rainless day and so he decided to have his cereal outside.   
He looked at the guest house as soon as he closed the doors behind him, but it just stared back at him, blank. The sun was already high up but covered by the clouds and Louis thought that he had way too many late mornings lately. He really should get back to his schedule and maybe even finish that flower bed by Harry’s house, now that they weren’t avoiding each other. Louis smiled at the thought again and remembered that he was here to have his breakfast; but before he could so much as take a sip of his tea, he caught a sight of something in the distance. His heart skipped a beat when he saw someone dark running along the shore, but the figure was human, not a dog. It was, in fact, Harry, and Louis felt a strange mixture of disappointment at it not being Cliff and excitement at seeing Harry. He watched him run closer and closer until Harry stopped a few feet away from his porch.  
“Good morning,” he said through a grin, his chest rising and falling.  
“Why the hell are you jogging so early?”  
“It’s nine, that’s not early. I’ve been up since seven,” Harry said and shrugged, like it was no big deal.  
“You are a weirdo,” Louis said and shook his head, finally taking a sip of his tea.  
“Just because I wake up early?” Harry asked, hands on his hips.  
“Who the hell knows what are you people up to in those early hours?” Louis said, taking a spoonful of his Choco-pops.  
“Have you never been up early before?” Harry frowned and Louis watched the sun kiss his hair. The curls were pinned back with a hairclip and Harry looked fairly ridiculous. Louis looked back at Harry’s eyes, cheeks reddening slightly.  
“Well, yeah, but that’s a rare occasion. Only when I can’t sleep.”  
“See, it’s not impossible,” Harry said, stretching his hands up and then to the side. Louis followed the movement with his eyes.  
“By the way,” he said, looking into his bowl again. “I wanted to fix the flower beds by the guest house today, okay? Or it will be too late soon.”  
“Do you need any help?” Harry asked, bending forward, his fingertips lost in the grass.  
“If you want to,” Louis said and shrugged, trying not to look at him. Harry stood up straight, tucking his hoodie down.  
“Sure. I’ll just go shower and I’m all yours,” he said with another grin and Louis was about to blush.  
“Yeah, yeah, make sure you don’t stink,” he said and Harry snorted.  
“See you in a bit,” Harry said and waved before turning and jogging away.   
Louis watched him till the doors closed behind Harry and looked down at his half-finished cereal, not feeling hungry any more. He gulped down his tea and grabbed his bowl, depositing them into the sink before making his way to his bedroom.  
He looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was almost dry now, but his eyes were still puffy and his sweats way to stretched out. Louis shook his head at himself, thinking that it was all ridiculous. They were doing flower beds, for fuck’s sake, not a model show. He still grabbed a newer pair of black sweats though, thinking that he’d regret staining them later.  
When he made it out of the house with a box of flowers and tools in his hands, Harry was sitting on the steps of Louis’ porch, tying his trainers.  
“Couldn’t you do it at home?” Louis asked, stepping around him and resting the box against his hip. Harry straightened up.  
“I did, it just keeps falling out. Let’s go?” he said, nodding at his house. Louis led the way.  
“Hey Harry?”  
“Yeah?”  
They stopped and Louis put down the box, handing Harry a pair of gloves.  
“When you were jogging, have you seen a big black dog?”  
“I don’t think so? Why?” he frowned at him, putting on the gloves. Louis sighed.  
“My Clifford ran away a few weeks ago. I’ve been looking for him, but he’s still isn’t here,” Louis said, crouching down beside the patch of soil and taking a small spade. Harry sat down beside him.   
“You’ve got a dog?” Harry said.  
“Yeah. He ran away before, but never for that long, you know,” Louis said, digging a hole and not looking at Harry.  
“I’m sorry about that,” Harry said, watching Louis. “Maybe somebody took him in?”  
“But he is my dog!” Louis paused in his digging and looked at Harry. He frowned. “Why are you grinning?”  
“You sound like a kid,” Harry said and shrugged. Louis frowned deeper. “Sorry,” Harry said, reaching for his spade again, and hiding his smile.  
“No, no, no,” Louis said and shook his head at him. Harry frowned, pausing. “We have to start from here, or there may be empty spaces left,” Louis said, pointing to where he had dug a few shallow holes for the flowers.  
“Alright.”  
They worked in silence for a minute or so, and then Harry asked:  
“Do you do all this by yourself, then?”  
“You mean flowers?”  
“Well, yeah. And, like, the garden? Cleaning, cooking? All on you?”  
“I’m not five, Harry,” Louis said not unkindly, frowning at the ground.  
“Of course you aren’t.”  
“What do you mean?” Louis said and looked at him. Harry was sitting on his bum right in the grass and shrugged when he caught Louis’ eyes.  
“I just didn’t expect you to be so adult.”  
“Hey! I can take care of myself alright.”   
Louis poked him in the shoulder with his gloved finger, leaving a stain. Harry giggled.  
“Welcome to adult life.”  
“Piss off,” Louis said, throwing his spade aside. “Now,” he said, placing the box with flowers between them. They both looked at it. “The real question is, where do we put what?”  
“Do you want it to be different from your own?” Harry asked, all seriousness. Louis bit his cheek.  
“What do you reckon? Maybe it’ll be better if they are a bit different?” Louis said in tone.  
“Well, the colours are still similar, so we could play with the arrangement. What if we plant the red ones around, and then the purple and white ones inside?” Harry said, looking up at Louis with a raised eyebrow.  
“Let’s do it,” Louis nodded solemnly and saw laughter boiling in Harry’s eyes.   
They set to work and Louis lost count of time. But there they were now, stood side by side and admiring their work. He couldn’t say it was a perfect flower bed, his mum would probably do it much better, but it was alright. Louis raised his hand for a high-five. Harry met him in the middle, drawing his hand away a second later.  
“Good job, partner,” Louis said, gathering their tools.  
“Any time,” Harry said. “Need help with these?” he nodded at Louis’ almost empty box now.   
“Nah, I’ll manage,” Louis said. Harry stood there awkwardly, toes pigeoned. “Well, I’ll be off, then,” Louis nodded at his house.  
“Yeah. Tell me if you need help with anything else. It’s nice to have a break sometimes,” Harry said, glancing at him.  
“Will do,” Louis said and stretched out his hand. “Thanks for helping me.”  
“Any time,” Harry said as he shook his hand briefly. Louis’ whole body suddenly screamed ‘wrong!’ at him, but he ignored it. He stepped back from Harry, waving like an idiot.  
“See you around, H.”  
“See you.”  
Louis turned away and walked to his house as fast as he could without running. Being by Harry Styles’ side was no easy task.


	4. 4

Louis stopped in front of Harry’s door, hand in the air. Was it really a good idea? He dropped his hand without knocking but the next moment the doors opened and Harry emerged. They both jumped when they saw each other and Harry took out his earbuds.  
“Shit, Lou, you scared me,” he said, breathing heavy. Louis tried to calm his fluttering heart down. He wasn’t sure what was the reason for the fluttering though.  
“Sorry. I was just about to do some work around the house, if you wanted to help? Not that you have to, you just asked me to tell you if I have something for you to do, remember?” Louis finished and his cheeks felt on fire. He swallowed and made himself not break their eye contact. Harry just smiled, something soft in his eyes.  
“Of course. Let’s go,” he said and nodded behind Louis, finally leaving the house.  
“Were you heading somewhere? I can wait if you want to?” Louis asked, walking by Harry’s side. They stopped at the bottom of the stairs.  
“I was, actually. I wanted to go buy some food, but I can do it later, it’s no biggie,” Harry said, still smiling. He looked lovely in the soft sunshine, in his tie-dye hoodie and running shorts. His curls peeked from beneath a gray beanie under the hood.   
“Shopping?” Louis asked and glanced at his watch. It was nearing eleven. “What day is it today?” he said and looked back at Harry.  
“Sunday?” Harry said with a frown. “Why?”  
“They must have brought fresh veggies to the greengrocer’s like an hour ago. If we go now, we may still buy some.”  
“Do you need to go, too?” Harry asked, hands in his hoodie.  
“Yeah. And we could take my car. Deal?” he asked Harry, raising his eyebrows. Harry nodded.  
“Thanks.”  
“I told you you could use my car any time, remember?” Louis said, walking to his house, Harry on his heels. He opened the doors and took the keys off the hook by the entrance. “Ready?”  
“Yeah.”  
They walked to the car in silence, Louis very aware of Harry behind him. He took a mental note to buy some jeans, because his wardrobe of sweats was probably not the most flattering. As they settled down in the car he remembered something.  
“When are you leaving by the way?” he asked Harry. Harry paused with his seatbelt in his hands. “Shit,” Louis said at once, raising his hands. “I didn’t mean it like that, I swear. I don’t mind you here,” he said quickly and Harry relaxed a bit. He gave Louis a small smile.  
“In five days, I think. This Thursday,” he said, clicking his seatbelt into place.   
“Oh,” Louis said, starting the car. “Okay.”  
“So you don’t mind me here, then?” Harry said as Louis left the yard. He could hear Harry’s grin without looking over, the bastard.  
“I did miss people, you know. Especially when Cliff ran away. No one around to be pissed at.”  
Harry chuckled, but then asked seriously:  
“Still no news about Cliff?”  
“Nope,” Louis said and shook his head. They were driving in the village now. “I dunno if he’ll come back at this point, you know. It’s been, like, a month now.”  
“Shit. Have you tried the shelters?”  
“There is none here. I think somebody took him in and ignored all my banners or he just ran away into the forest or something.”  
They stopped by the grocer’s and Louis felt Harry’s gaze on him.  
“You could use your Twitter and ask if someone saw him? I’m sure people would be glad to help,” he said and Louis snorted.  
“I haven’t gone online for three years. Would be pretty weird if I do it for my dog, wouldn’t it?”  
“Want me to do it?”  
Louis looked over at him, eyes wide.  
“Sorry,” Harry said at once. “Stupid idea.”  
“I- I just dunno how people will react if they think that you and I are- together again?” he finished the bizarre sentence like a question, struggling to believe he was really saying the words like ‘together’ in regard to them.  
“Right,” Harry said and opened his door. “Wanna go?”  
“Sure,” Louis said and left the car as fast as he could.   
They spent the rest of the shopping in silence, moving awkwardly around each other to avoid any contact as if they both had a contagious disease. When Louis parked the car in front of the house, Harry wasn’t quick to leave like Louis expected. Instead, he turned to face him and stretched out his hand.   
“Wh-” he frowned and paused when he saw Harry’s hand. His pinky was sticking out and Louis smiled automatically. “Harry,” he said through a smile and looked at him, seeing a matching soft smile. Harry waved his pinky.  
“Come on, no grudges, right?” he said and Louis hooked his pinky with Harry’s.  
“Right,” he said.  
“Thanks,” he said, bumping their fists and drawing his hand away. “I’ll just go drop off the bags and be back to help?”  
“Yeah. Wear something old.”  
“Will do,” Harry said before they left the car.   
Louis still smiled as he carried his own bags to the house. When they dated, they used to do the pinky thing all the time after their quarrels. Harry’s mum taught him that to make up with Gemma when he was a kid, and Harry brought it into their relationship.   
He met Harry a few minutes later, noticing that he changed into a longsleeve instead of his hoodie. At least something.  
“So what are we doing?” Harry asked, clasping his hands together.  
“Well, I thought of painting the fence, while there is no rain. Up for it?”  
“Sure,” Harry said and followed Louis around the house to a small shed in the backyard. “Have you got the paint?”  
“Yeah, I bought a bunch last year. It’s in the attic,” Louis said and opened the shed, looking inside for his ladder. “Here it is,” he muttered, taking it out. Harry grabbed the other end at once.  
“You’ve got an attic?” Harry said, sounding excited. Louis snorted.  
“Yes, Harry, no need to be so ecstatic. It’s just an old thing with spiders.”  
“Can I go there?” he asked as they leant the ladder against the house and Louis positioned it against the attic door.  
“If you want to,” he shrugged, stepping back a bit. “It should be somewhere to the right, and the brushes right on top of it.”  
“Okay,” Harry said and started climbing. He looked back at Louis when he was halfway up. “Could you hold it?”  
“Of course. I was about to, just didn’t want to face your bum, you know,” Louis said, gripping the ladder tightly.  
“Times change, I see,” Harry muttered and Louis had half the mind to shake him.  
“Bastard,” he said back and heard Harry chuckle. He watched Harry open the doors and climb in carefully, his backside sticking out. Louis looked away.  
“Lou! There are three cans, right?” he heard Harry shout from above.  
“Yeah. Take one and we’ll come back for another when we need it,” he said back loudly, watching the attic door again. Harry appeared there with all three cans stacked one on top of the other. He was hugging them to his chest with one hand and grinning at Louis. “Harry, just take one. You’ll lose your balance with only one hand,” Louis said.  
“It’s alright,” he said and bent down for something. “Watch out,” he said and then threw the brushes on the ground. Louis just shook his head. “Are you holding it?” Harry said, starting to climb down already. Louis gripped the ladder at once, watching Harry’s bum.  
“Sure. Be careful.”  
“I always am,” Harry said and turned his head to grin at him. He showed Louis a thumbs up with his paint-free hand, and Louis realized it was a bad idea a moment before Harry lost his balance and crushed onto the ground, cans of paint flying everywhere.   
“Harry!” Louis crouched down beside him before he could fully realize what had just happened. Harry was on his side and turned over on his back to look at Louis. “You alright?” Louis asked, squeezing his shoulders. Harry hissed and Louis raised his hands in the air at once. “Shit, sorry, where does it hurt?”   
“My shoulder,” Harry said, looking down at his right arm. Louis saw a scratch where the fabric got torn, and gently pushed Harry’s hand away when he made to touch it.   
“Don’t. Let’s get you home and fix it, alright?” Louis said softly, looking at Harry with raised eyebrows. Harry nodded.  
“Thanks.”  
“You are an idiot, by the way,” Louis said as he stood up and gave Harry his hand to help him to his feet. Harry snorted before he grabbed it.  
“I know.”  
Louis hoisted him up, but Harry hissed again, bending his right leg up.  
“Ouch!”  
“What is it?” Louis asked, catching him by his side. He held him straight up with an arm around his waist. Harry leant against him, his hand around Louis’ shoulders.  
“My ankle feels funny,” Harry said and Louis laughed almost hysterically.  
“Funny?” he repeated, voice high. Thank fuck the backdoor was only a few feet away. “Can you walk?”  
“I don’t think so.”  
“Shit, Harry. Alright,” Louis said and took a deep breath.  
“Hey, don’t worry, it’ll be okay,” Harry said and Louis laughed again. They were still standing in the same position and Louis realized they were touching for probably the first time in the last three years.   
“Right. Okay. Only that you probably twisted an ankle, but that’s no biggie, yeah?” Louis said and glanced at Harry. Harry smiled and shrugged with one shoulder. “Come on, then,” Louis said. “Just lean on me and jump or something, okay? Can you do it?”  
“Yep,” Harry said and nodded. Louis took a step forward and felt a few drops hit his head.  
“Oh,” he said, pausing and looking up at the sky. Harry did the same.  
“Looks like we wouldn’t paint anyway. Lucky us,” Harry said and looked down. Louis stared at him, rain getting heavier.  
“Lucky, aha, sure. Come on,” he said and took another few steps. “You alright?”  
“Yeah.”  
He supported Harry as he jumped up the stairs and when they made it inside the house a few seconds later and closed the doors, they could hear the rain pounding on the windows.  
“You sure you checked the forecast, right?” Harry said as he looked around while they half-walked half-jumped through the kitchen.   
“Is it really what you are thinking now?” Louis said as they entered the hall and slowly made it to the living room. “Does your ankle hurt?”  
“Only if I step on it.”  
“Okay,” Louis said and they made it inside the room. He helped Harry sit down on the sofa and straightened up, exhaling. “Fuck you are heavy, Harold.”  
“Hey!” Harry said and pouted. Louis snorted. This was all so bizarre it was ridiculous. “Maybe you just need to work out more?”  
“Yeah, as if we have a gym around here. Come on, take off your shirt and lay down, I’ll go fetch the medicine, alright?”  
“Okay.”  
“Want anything? Water? Tea?”  
“No, thank you. I’m good,” Harry said, taking off his shirt and Louis made sure to turn away and walk out right that second.   
He wished he didn’t have to come back and stare at Harry’s naked torso, but he didn’t really have a servant to do that instead. So he grabbed the medicine box from the kitchen and came back. He found Harry lying on the sofa with his hands covering his nipples. Louis couldn’t help his snort.  
“What?” Harry asked, frowning at him.  
“I hate to break it to you, but I’ve seen both of your pairs, so there is no need to hide them,” Louis said as he brought an armchair over and plopped down opposite Harry.  
“I’m not shy, they are just cold!”  
Louis laughed full on now, standing up again. He snatched a blanket from another armchair and threw it to Harry.   
“Here you go.”  
“Thanks. They appreciate it.”  
Louis rolled his eyes and turned on the TV, muting the sound. He was feeling a bit calmer now than he did a few minutes ago, when he was a step away from hysteria.  
“Alright, love, let’s sort you out,” he muttered to himself as he rummaged through the box and fished out a disinfector. He looked up only to find Harry blushing. “What is it?” Louis frowned, confused. Harry just shook his head.  
“Nothing. The scratch first?”  
Louis frowned further but decided to drop it.  
“Yeah. It’s going to prickle, okay?” he said, wetting a clean cotton pad. Harry nodded, biting his cheek. “Ready?” Louis asked, hand hovering above the wound.   
“Yeah. Thanks for do- Shit!” he hissed when Louis started gently patting the scratch. Louis chuckled.  
“Come on, you are a big lad, you’ll be fine,” he said through a smile, not quite looking at Harry. He leant back, throwing the pad into an empty plastic bag as Harry scowled at him. Louis took a plaster and covered the scratch with it. “Now, one gone, one more to go.”  
He got up and came to the armrest where Harry’s feet were propped up, still in trainers.  
“Can you help me with the trainers? I don’t want to hurt you any more than necessary,” he said, glancing at Harry. The latter sat up and scrunched his face a bit when he bent his right leg accidentally while taking off the trainer from the normal foot. The blanket poured onto the floor by the sofa.  
“Sure.”  
“Here,” Louis said, bringing the armchair closer and sitting down in it again. He spread his legs and patted the patch of seat between them. “Place it here, carefully.”  
Harry rested his foot gently on Louis’ seat, Louis painfully aware of the little distance left between the foot and his crotch.   
“You tell me if it hurts, yeah?” he said, hands hovering above the ankle. It was starting to swell slightly.  
Harry just nodded and Louis started to gently untie the trainer and loosen it up as much as he could. Harry just watched him, frowning. He was gripping the sofa near where he was sat.  
“Alright?” Louis asked before he could take the thing off.   
“Yeah. Is it as lose as it can go?”  
“I mean, we could cut it?” Louis said. “Let’s try first like this, and if it hurts I’ll bring the scissors, okay?”  
“Okay.”  
Louis grabbed Harry’s leg almost up by the knee, afraid to hurt the ankle, the other hand holding the trainer. As gently as he could, he pulled out Harry’s foot, trying not to twist it. When the trainer was off, they both exhaled on a relief. Louis took the sock off just as slowly, managing not to make Harry hiss. He threw it on top of the trainer and helped Harry prop the foot against the armrest again, before handing him the blanket. He stood with his hands on his hips and looked at the yellowish bruise on it.  
“What if we leave it be for today and tomorrow I drive you to the hospital and they give you a proper cast? We’ll just give you a tight bandage, ‘cause I’m not sure the surgeon is working today.”  
“Alright, yeah. Thanks.”  
Louis took a deep breath and looked away from the swelling ankle, once more aware of the tattoo of the rain outside. He locked eyes with Harry and smirked.  
“Scared?”  
“Do you know how to make a bandage?” Harry asked, tentatively, and Louis chortled.  
“Yeah, mate, don’t worry. I have six siblings, remember?” Louis said, his hands on his hips. Harry’s eyebrows went up.  
“You never told me they twisted their ankles?”  
“Hey, no need to be so suspicious,” Louis said, trying to look offended. He even folded his arms and everything. To be quite honest, he was offended, a bit.  
“So they did?” Harry said and raised one eyebrow higher. Louis rolled his eyes.  
“You don’t trust me, do you?”  
Harry blushed and looked away.  
“Sorry,” he muttered.   
“Harry,” Louis said, sinking into the armchair for a second and looking at him. Harry looked back from beneath his eyelashes, tentative and somehow fragile. Though Louis didn’t know how people of 6 feet’ height could look fragile. Harry was talented, what could he say. “Daisy fell from her bicycle when she was six and mum was so scared her hands were literally shaking. So I did it. I mean, we went over it in school, and she told me what to do, and then we drove Daisy to the hospital the next day and she was fine. Do you trust me now?” he said, half tempted to take Harry’s hand and somehow squeeze some trust into him. Harry, meanwhile, just watched Louis’ face carefully and when he finished he nodded.  
“Yeah, okay. I trust you. And sorry,” he said and glanced down again, shifting the brown blanket higher on his chest.  
“It’s alright. It’s your leg, after all. Pretty important,” Louis said and stood up, looking anywhere but at Harry.   
He could understand Harry rationally, he really could, it made sense for him to be doubtful of Louis’ skills; but he guessed his heart expected the romantic ‘I’ll trust you with my life, no matter how much shite has happened between us’. Louis sighed at the thought, preparing everything he needed. He probably was guilty for initiating the break-up, but he wasn’t the one who refused to create a family, was he?  
Louis bit his cheek and glanced at Harry. He was watching the telly, a cushion under his head so that he could see it properly. He looked comfortable like that. Domestic, even. Louis swallowed the thought and went back to his box. When he finally found the new bandage, he placed it on the table and dropped right on his bum on the floor by the armrest. Harry looked at him, propping himself up on the elbow. The blanket slid down to reveal his milky chest, and it took a conscious effort not to look there.  
“Do you need me to do anything?” Harry asked.  
“Just sit so that your leg will be off the sofa, will you?”  
Harry turned to face him and sat up, now leaning against the back of the sofa. Louis gently took him by the calf as soon as the leg was in the air and guided it into his lap, propping it carefully against his thigh, where he was sitting on his knees. The rain was still rustling outside, not even mildly weaker.  
“Again, Harry, it shouldn’t hurt much. If you feel too much pain you tell me at once, okay?” he said, looking him in the eye.  
“How much pain is too much pain?”  
They both smiled and Louis let out a quiet chuckle, hands on his hips. His knees were already screaming at him for the uncomfortable position.  
“Let’s hope it won’t get into that,” he said and took the bandage in his hands.  
“Doesn’t sound very professional if you ask me,” Harry said and Louis looked up, bandage in hands, only to find him smiling. Harry was teasing, the bastard.  
“Well, you have no one else to care for your smelly feet, so,” Louis shrugged and started to gently but tightly wrap Harry’s ankle. Harry seemed to lose his thought for a while, just watching, but then he frowned.  
“Oi! My feet are not smelly! I showered and everything. You are the one who doesn’t wear socks.”  
“I actually do now.”  
Harry raised his eyebrows as far as they would go, it seemed.  
“You finally took pity on people around you, then?”  
“You can say so,” Louis said and shrugged again, concentrating on the bandage.  
“You are more and more adult by the day,” Harry said, and there was no teasing there anymore. It sounded more like surprise.  
“Should I take it as a compliment?” Louis said, not raising his head.  
“Depends,” Harry said and Louis saw him shrug out of the corner of his eye. He finished the bandage and clipped it together.  
“Here you go,” he told Harry, looking up with a smile, Harry’s foot still resting against his thigh. Dangerous.  
“Thanks. Erm-” Harry paused, running a hand through his hair, his chest and arm muscles flexing. “I guess I’ll go?” he pointed to the window with his thumb and Louis raised his eyebrows.  
“Go where?”  
“To the guest house? Now that I’m secure till tomorrow.”  
“What makes you say that? There is plenty of room in here, you can stay all you want. And you can be sure you’ll need help moving around, because I don’t have any crutches,” Louis said as he gently raised Harry’s leg and propped it against the armrest again. Harry laid back down.  
“I don’t want to be a bother,” Harry said, looking shy and small again.  
“And you were the one to demand my medical license two minutes ago. Don’t be ridiculous. You can sleep on this sofa, or I have a guest room upstairs, if you’d like.”  
“Here is fine,” Harry said, still small. “Thanks. Really. And sorry about questioning and all that.”  
“No worries,” Louis said, closing the box. “Want some tea?”  
“Sure.”  
“Still plain black?” Louis asked on his way out. Harry gave him a small smile.  
“Yeah. Thank you.”  
Louis returned the smile and left for the kitchen. He came back a few minutes later with two cups and handed Harry his. He sat down by Harry’s side on the sofa after he helped him prop his foot against the table and they turned up the sound.  
Harry wrapped himself tighter in the blanket, not shifting any closer. If not for the latter, it would have been like the good old days, almost. They used to spend a lot of time watching crappy TV. Only that they usually shared a blanket.  
“Want me to give you a tee or something?” Louis asked, sipping at his tea and not looking over at Harry.  
“Won’t they be too small?”  
Louis looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Harry was grinning.  
“I mean, I really can’t be arsed to go to the guest house in this weather, so you’ll have to suffer through it,” Louis said and shrugged.   
“Whatever you say,” Harry said through another grin. Harry Styles was the most incoherent human Louis had ever encountered, alright?  
Louis sighed and stood up, leaving his tea on the table by Harry’s bandaged foot.  
“Wait here,” he said automatically and almost facepalmed. Harry snorted.  
“Will do.”  
Louis left for his bedroom, cursing under his breath as he climbed the stairs. He rummaged through his drawers, finally extracting his biggest tee and a pair of sweatpants.  
“Here,” he said as he entered the room, placing the clothes on the sofa and plopping down right beside them. “You can take the sweatpants when you go to bed if you want to.”  
“That tee looks enormous. Did you have like a giant boyfriend or something?”  
Louis stared at Harry with another raised eyebrow.  
“Giant boyfriend? Is that what you call yourself?”  
“That’s not mine,” Harry said, doing a double take at the t-shirt in his hands. “Isn’t it?”  
“No, it’s my step-dad’s, Mark’s, remember?”  
It was Harry’s turn to stare.  
“I was at the wedding, of course I remember.”  
“Sorry,” Louis said. “I just thought… You know. Sorry, Harry.”  
“Thanks for the tee,” Harry said, turning back towards the TV and turning the volume up. Louis looked at him for one more second and turned away, swallowing. Harry pulled the t-shirt on and folded his arms, his half full tea-cup on the table. He looked engrossed in the stupid TV-show, which Louis couldn’t even make sense of. They made through half an episode probably by the time Harry asked:  
“Did you- did you date anyone after we broke up?”  
It was a quiet question, but Harry’s voice sounded stern; stubborn, almost. Louis looked at him. Harry was still staring at the TV, his brows furrowed, his arms folded. Louis swallowed again.  
“No, not really,” he said and Harry showed no reaction. Louis felt betrayed by it somehow. “Have you?” he asked.   
“No,” he only said. Louis stared at him some more, expecting something else, but Harry kept staring at the TV, his knuckles white with how hard he was gripping his sleeves.  
“Alright,” Louis said, turning away again. Harry kept silent.  
The tension between them was palpable, and Louis couldn’t quite wrap his head around their dynamic and Harry himself for that matter. One minute he was funny and acted like his best mate and another he played a jealous boyfriend. Louis didn’t know how to feel about it. A part of him was pleased that Harry asked about his personal life; the same part was near ecstatic that Harry didn’t date anyone either; but the rest of Louis was confused. Confused about Harry’s mood swings, his teasing and his grudges. Louis decided to leave it be for the time being.   
“Did you manage to write something for the album?” he asked then, trying to break the atmosphere that was starting to suffocate him.  
Harry looked at him, and his eyes were somewhat softer now, yet not nearly as soft as they were all those years ago.  
“Yeah,” he said, looking at Louis. “The sea inspires me, you know?” he said simply, arms still folded. Harry looked less tense now, just like Louis was feeling.  
“Trust me, I do,” Louis said with a small smile and Harry’s face softened further.  
“Did you write anything during your time here?” Harry asked, bending his healthy leg and resting his chin on the knee. The rain outside was starting to calm down.  
“A bit,” Louis said and shrugged. “May have enough for an album even. Though I was thinking of maybe making an EP first. I haven’t been putting any music out for too long probably,” he said and ran a hand through his hair, instantly regretting it. He must look like a hedgehog now. Harry smiled at him though. Louis swallowed.  
“I’ll be looking forward to hear it, then,” Harry said and Louis felt the need to touch him then. He fisted his hands in his lap instead.  
“Thanks. Your first album was sick, by the way. You’re such a rockstar.”  
Harry beamed at him, his glee practically oozing out of him. Louis almost rolled his eyes.  
“Remind me not to compliment you again, will you?” Louis said, clapping him on the knee but retrieving his hand almost immediately afterwards. If Harry noticed, he didn’t show it. He chuckled instead, closing his eyes and looking at peace again, despite the quarrel of not an hour ago. Louis found himself smiling back.  
“I’m a narcissist, what can I say,” Harry said with the least narcissistic look, opening his eyes again, which now went so soft with laughter Louis had to pinch himself not to suffocate. His body had strange reactions to Harry.  
“Come to think of it, you are the most narcissistic person I know,” Louis said and nodded, faking deep thought.  
“Thank you,” Harry said and bowed, as much as it was possible to while sitting. “I’ll take it as a compliment, too.”  
They spent the rest of the evening watching the TV, Louis actually getting what was going on on the screen this time. When it became dark outside, Louis stretched and yawned.  
“Do you want anything? Maybe food or something?” he asked, turning to Harry who was staring at the screen through half-lidded eyes, his head thrown back on the sofa’s back.  
“Food? Don’t say that word, please,” Harry said with a suffering face and Louis chuckled. He glanced at the mess of sweet snacks’ wrappers which he and Harry shared in the evening, because neither could be arsed to cook. Although that meant Louis really needed to shop for snacks in the foreseeable future; maybe he’d pop into the store while he’d be waiting for Harry at the doctor’s tomorrow or something.  
“Want me to help you to the toilet, then? You must be bursting, ey?”  
“Thanks, mum,” Harry said and pulled a face at him. He was such a child sometimes. “But actually, yeah. I mean, you could just show me where it is. I think I can jump on one leg, it’s alright.”  
Louis snorted.  
“I’d really like to see that. Come on,” he said as he stood up and turned to him. He gave Harry his hand and helped him to his feet. “You can lean on me, alright?” he said, wrapping a hand around his waist. Touching Harry so closely again felt like something from a past life. Harry rested his arm on Louis shoulders, his hand felt just as tentative on it as Louis did. It felt both right and wrong at the same time, and Louis couldn’t really explain it even if he tried.  
“Alright,” Harry said and Louis had to remind himself what they were talking about. Walking, bathroom, right.  
They made their way to the bathroom on the first floor, and when Louis made it to lead Harry to the toilet seat itself, Harry stopped.  
“I think I’ll take care of it on my own, you know,” he said, but it was with a smirk. Louis rolled his eyes.  
“Whatever you say, big guy,” he said, carefully ungluing himself from Harry and instantly missing the warmth. He swallowed the thought. “I’ll wait outside then?” he said, leaning into the open door as Harry hoped forward, leaning on the wall with one hand.  
“And listen to me pee?” Harry paused and turned to him, frowning. “You are a pervert, Tomlinson.”  
“Says you,” Louis said before he could stop himself and felt the blood run to his cheeks. Harry didn’t seem to care. “Then just call me once you’re finished, I’ll be in the living room.”  
“Alright. Now go, I really need a wee,” Harry said and waved him away, not facing Louis.  
Louis leant against the doorframe to the living room, thinking. He felt like Harry was somehow a new person. He was still definitely somebody Louis knew and could predict, but at the same time Louis didn’t feel at ease around him any more, he felt the need to be careful and attentive to his own words and how he acted around Harry, mainly not to offend him again. It probably wasn’t a bad thing, all things considered, but it clashed with everything Louis ever imagined their interaction to be. In the last three years he had come up with every scenario from outright rage to, what he’d never admit to out loud, lovey-dovey interactions which they didn’t really ever have to begin with, except for probably the very start. But accepting Harry as a new person? Louis never even considered that. He was so used to the fact of knowing every inch of Harry’s body, and now the man had short hair for fuck’s sake. And Louis wasn’t talking about Harry’s appearance.   
“Louie!” Harry shouted and Louis jumped back into reality.  
“Coming!”  
He found Harry closing the doors behind him and when Louis approached he reached out his arm. Louis bit down on his smile at how domestic that already felt. He returned his hand to Harry’s waist again, feeling like he was slowly getting used to the foreignness of it all.  
“Alright, then,” he said as they entered the living room. He led Harry to the sofa and helped him sit down. “I’ll fetch you the blanket and pillows, yeah? If you still want to take the sofa. There is a guest room up there if you wanna,” Louis said, pointing at the ceiling, but Harry just shook his head.  
“I’ll be fine here, thank you.”  
“Alright. I’ll be back in a moment, then.”  
“Thanks, Lou. Really, for everything. I’m sorry I’m so much trouble for you,” Harry said, turning towards him as Louis was already in the doorway.  
“Don’t, Harry. Really, it’s not your fault or anything,” Louis said, his heart growing soft. Harry nodded, still twisted in his position to look at Louis.  
“Then just thank you. Means a ton, really.”  
Louis smiled at him.  
“You are a big sap, aren’t you?” he said, grinning now. Harry reached out for something and next thing Louis knew a cushion flew at him. He caught it with both hands. “And a bastard for that matter,” Louis added, throwing the cushion back. He saw Harry pull another face at him before he left for his the guestroom to get the linen.  
He entered the living room again a few minutes later, barely able to see his way from behind the pillows. He stumbled towards what he believed was the sofa and Harry took the blanket and pillows from him before Louis could fall over.  
“Thanks. Shit this is hard work,” Louis said, sighing and looked at Harry. “Oh,” he said, noticing that Harry was without his shorts now, Louis’ sweats only up to his knees. That was a strangely arousing sight and Louis turned away, blushing. “Sorry, erm,” he said, turning his back at Harry now and folding his arms. That was one comical scene he got himself into now, that was.  
“It’s alright,” Harry said from behind, sounding amused. “Nothing you haven’t seen before.”  
“Is it really the right time to bring it up?” Louis said, gripping his sleeves in his hands to remind himself not to turn.  
“Well,” Harry said and sounded strained. “As good as any,” he said and exhaled sharply.  
“You alright?” Louis asked, frowning and almost turning.  
“Yeah. You can turn now, if you want to.”  
Louis did and saw Harry fully dressed — thank fuck — beating some air into the pillows.  
“Need help?” Louis asked, coming closer and unfolding his arms now that the danger was gone. Harry was still hot as fuck though, he wouldn’t deny. At least he was dressed. “I can move you to the armchair and tuck in the covers?”  
“Oh,” Harry said and looked up at him. “Yeah, alright. Thank you,” he said, putting the pillow away and stretching up his hands. Louis helped him to his feet, leaving his hands around Harry’s shoulders as he jumped to the armchair a few feet away. When Harry was sitting again, he gave him the pillows and blanket to free up the space.  
“How is your leg by the way?” Louis asked, unfolding the covers. He raised his hands as high as he could to fully unfold it, which hid him from Harry. Probably for the better.  
“Fine. It hurts if I twist it though,” Harry said and Louis smirked, turning towards the sofa and his back at Harry.  
“Obviously,” he said as he let the covers fall onto the sofa. He stood on his knees and started to tuck it in. “You strained it, it seems. We’ll go to the hospital first thing tomorrow, though I think our best choice is the city.”  
Harry didn’t answer, so Louis turned around, standing awkwardly on all fours to look at him, half expecting him to be asleep. Harry caught his eye, blushing.  
“The city?..” he asked, frowning and blinking rapidly. “Why?”  
“Well,” Louis said, climbing off the sofa and taking the pillows from Harry, while the latter was avoiding his eyes. “The village’s hospital is hardly a hospital, and I can’t entrust you to their doctors,” Louis said as he plumped the pillows at the head of the sofa. “Like, maybe they are good people, you know, but we’d be better off in the city, just trust me,” he said, taking the blanket from Harry now. He threw it onto the sofa, half folded so that Harry could get right under the covers. “Bed time?” Louis asked, turning to Harry again and giving him his hand. Harry took it and stood up.  
“Yeah, thanks for helping,” he said and bit his cheek, standing on one leg while Louis held him by the elbows.  
“No problem, come on,” he said, nodding at the sofa. Harry jumped the few feet and sat down with Louis’ help. “Do you need anything?” he asked, watching Harry get his legs under the covers. He was still sitting though, looking like a child.  
“Erm,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Can I have your phone number?” he asked and Louis stared at him, eyes wide.  
“Are you joking?”  
“No, I mean, if, like, something happens and I need your help tonight. You are a sound sleeper, I doubt I can wake you up by shouting.”  
“Oh,” Louis said, patting his pockets to locate the phone. He unlocked it and handed it to Harry. “Do you have your phone with you?”  
“Yeah,” Harry said as he took Louis’ phone and nodded at the table where his mobile lay. “Do you have a charger I could borrow?” he asked, typing in his number.  
“Yeah,” Louis said and came up to a small bureau where he kept all the rubbish that he acquired over the three years. “Here,” he placed it on the table. “You can pluck it here, right behind the sofa. Will you reach it?”  
Harry looked to where he was pointing and nodded. He handed Louis his phone.  
“Thanks.”  
“Alright,” Louis said and dialled Harry’s number, waiting for Harry’s phone to get his number. Harry nodded, locking his phone again. “I’ll be off, then. I guess you phone me if you need anything?”  
“Yeah, I mean, I probably won’t, just to make sure,” Harry said, looking apologetic. “I can delete your number when I leave, if you want to,” he said, glancing down. Louis didn’t know why, but he felt a sharp pain right to his heart in that second.   
“No need,” he said. “I’d love to meet you again; I planned to go to London once Cliff comes back anyway. If he comes back.”  
“You did?” Harry said and his head snapped up. Louis nodded. Harry smiled. “I’d love to see you there, too. We could take Niall with us, too?”  
“Sure. Fans would go mad,” Louis smirked. “Add Payno to it and we’ll blow the Twitter probably.”  
Harry scrunched his nose in that lovely way of his and Louis’ heart felt very hot for a second.  
“Alright,” he said and clasped his hands. “Good night,” he said and waved like an idiot, taking a few steps back.  
“Good night, Lou,” Harry smiled and finally lay down. Louis turned off the lights on his way out and ascended the stairs.  
He felt warm climbing into his bed that night; he used to feel that when he knew Cliff was somewhere in the house, that he was not completely alone. He made sure he put his phone on the bedside table where he would certainly hear it and got under the covers.


	5. 5

Louis woke up and sat bolt upright. He didn’t know what had happened, but his heart was racing. He heard someone swearing downstairs, though he couldn’t make out what it was. Harry. Louis threw the covers away, the room lit dimly by the early morning. It wasn’t probably even six yet. He almost made it to the doors when his phone rang. He snatched it from the table, swearing, and answered Harry.  
“You alright?” he asked, already running down the stairs. “Where are you?”  
“In the loo,” Harry said in a groggy voice and Louis stopped dead in his tracks.  
“In the loo?” he said, frowning at the toilet doors.  
“I fell over,” Harry said with a sigh and, absurdly enough, Louis felt laughter bubbling up in him. He came up to the door and hang up, swinging it open. Harry was sprawled on his tummy, his feet close to where Louis stood in the doorway. Louis laughed again at the sight and Harry twisted to look at him over his shoulder.  
“You really need to wash your floors, you know that? That’s disgusting,” Harry said, pointing at the floor behind the toilet seat.  
“Well, it’s not meant to be laid on, is it?” Louis said as he stepped over Harry’s legs and came closer to his head. He bent down, hands above his knees. “Did you hurt your ankle?”  
“No. I just lost my balance. Stupid thresholds,” Harry said, pushing himself up on his arms and his left foot. Louis swallowed his awe at the strength.  
“If you sit on your bum I can help you up,” he said instead and watched Harry turn over slowly until he sat flat on his backside and reached his hands up to Louis like a toddler. Louis smiled. “You look like a kid, you know it?” he said, hoisting Harry up for the upteenth time in the last 24 hours.  
“Piss off,” Harry said when he was up, and Louis snorted. “I still need a wee,” he said nodding at the seat.  
“Try not falling over again, will you?”  
Harry slapped him on the back when Louis turned. He shook his head.  
“You are ridiculous. Call me when you’re finished,” he said, closing the doors.  
He tried to tame down his hair while Harry was busy, but gave up after realising Harry had already seen him like that a million times. Their break up wasn’t particularly relevant to his bed-head, he concluded.  
“Louie!” Harry shouted, swinging the doors open and Louis scrunched his face. “Oh,” Harry blinked at him. “Sorry. Thought you went away.”  
“Decided to be a perv for the night,” Louis said, placing his hand on Harry’s waist again.  
“Good to know,” Harry said quietly as they half-walked half-jumped their way into the living room. “How about some breakfast?” Harry asked as they entered the room. Louis stopped and looked at him, noticing just how close they were. He could see a line from the pillow on Harry’s cheek. And he still hadn’t brushed his teeth, so. Not a good idea.  
“You want me to rescue you from the loo and then cook you breakfast? You are one spoiled arse, Harry Styles,” Louis said, looking away and shaking his head.  
“If you get me to the kitchen, I can cook for you. Maybe not full English, but I could manage some sandwiches.”  
Louis looked at him again, squinting.  
“O-kay,” he said, musing the thought. “Yeah, alright. There are cartoons in the morning, we could watch those if you want?”  
Harry grinned at him.  
“You are so good at being adult,” he said and squeezed Louis’ shoulder. Louis rolled his eyes.  
“Piss off,” he said and led them to the kitchen. If he was honest, his shoulders were aching, but he couldn’t say he minded much.  
“Do we have the sandwich stuff?” Harry asked as they entered the kitchen. Louis’ heart skipped a bit at the word ‘we’.  
“Sandwich stuff? How did you manage to write an album?” Louis said and frowned at him. They reached the long table by the window and Louis dropped him in one of the chairs. Harry shrugged.  
“I’ll have you know,” he said as Louis left for the fridge. Harry was looking at his nails and coughed to get his attention. Louis looked out from behind the fridge’s door, a pack of ham in hand. “That Liam Gallagher listened to some of my new stuff and said it was cool,” he said with a straight face and it took a moment for the words to register in Louis’ mind. He dropped the ham and Harry looked up, his eyes flickering with mischief.  
“Are you joking?” Louis asked loud and clear, frozen by the opened fridge. Harry looked at him and shrugged, a smile breaking on his face.  
“I went out for a beer with him not long ago and played him some of my stuff.”  
“Liam fucking Gallagher listened to your songs?” Louis asked in a high-pitched voice.   
“And liked them,” Harry said through a grin. Louis swallowed and looked into the fridge again. What was he doing? Sandwiches, right.  
“Congratulations,” he said, searching for cheese and butter.  
“Thanks. Are you jealous?”  
“Me?” Louis said and raised an eyebrow, closing the fridge with his bum, and picked up the packed ham from the floor. He put it all onto the table in front of Harry and looked at him. Harry’s eyes were still puffy from sleep, his hair not so clean and matted on one side. He was smiling at Louis, less mischievously now; he looked a lot more like the Harry Louis used to know. Louis sighed, feeling his bravado leave him. “Of course I’m fucking jealous, Harry. He is a legend,” he said, noticing the soft pinkish light from the sunrise licking Harry’s hair. He raised his hand to tuck a strand behind the small ear he always loved so much. Harry followed the movement with his eyes and Louis woke up from his haze. He snatched an empty cup he left there the night before instead and took a few steps back. Tea. He needed to make tea.  
Harry coughed again.  
“Could you put the bread into the toaster?” he said, no glee in his voice anymore.  
“Sure,” Louis said, trying to be nonchalant, and put the cup he was holding into the sink.  
He felt inadequate in the silence that fell over them as he put the bread into the toaster and then switched the kettle on, scrunching his face at the harsh sound. Harry was fumbling with the ‘sandwich stuff’, while Louis leant against the counter, arms folded, looking anywhere but at the man by the window.  
“Lou?” Harry asked and Louis looked at him. Harry had his hands in his lap, and he was looking small again.  
“Yeah? What’s up?”  
“I didn’t mean to bring you down or anything. I’m sorry if it came off like that.”  
“Don’t worry, H,” Louis said and sighed, stretching his arms up over his head. Harry followed the movement with his eyes again and Louis smiled at him this time. “You were always a bit of a pretentious brat,” Louis said, dropping his arms and shrugging.  
“Hey!” Harry said and pouted at him, breaking the sour mood of before completely. “I’m not a brat!”  
“Of course, love,” he said and turned to take out some new cups. “Whatever you say,” he smiled and threw a tea bag into each.   
“I- I- Umpf,” Harry stumbled through his words and the toaster rang. Louis took out the bread and put it on a plate. He put a new portion in before handing the plate to Harry.  
“What?” he said, his grin still there. Harry was frowning at him, looking like a disgruntled child whom his parents refused to buy another toy. “You hate me?”  
Harry squinted at him and then his face relaxed.   
“No,” he said simply and reached out for the bread, assembling the first sandwich.  
“Alright,” Louis said, going back to the tea. “Yeah, okay,” he added to no one in particular and poured water into the cups. He watched the toaster as if he could make it work faster by looking at it.  
“What time is it, by the way?” Harry asked from behind and the toaster rang the second time. Louis handed him the bread and dropped into the chair opposite, extracting his phone.  
“Ten past six,” he said and yawned at once. “Shit it’s so early. Couldn’t your bladder wait for another few hours?”  
Harry just looked at him, pausing with a knife in one hand and a buttered toast in the other.  
“I thought you were making tea?” he said and Louis jumped to his feet. “1:0” Harry said under his breath as Louis threw away the bags. Louis threw him a glare and took out the milk from the fridge.  
“So we are not counting the fact that you managed to fall twice in less than 24 hours?” he said and looked at Harry with a raised eyebrow. Harry gave him a straight face and Louis smirked, adding a splash of milk into his tea, before putting it back in. He took the two cups and turned to Harry. “Do you want to eat here or in the living room?”  
“I thought we were watching cartoons?” Harry said, putting all his toasts onto the plate.  
“Then I’ll go put the cups and come back for you, yeah?”   
“Can you take the plate?”  
Louis came closer and Harry put the sandwiches between his forearms.  
“If they fall,” Louis said, slowly walking towards the entrance. “That would be too much of a strain on my hospitality, Harold.”  
“I’m not Harold!” he called when Louis was already in the hall.  
“Sure!”  
Louis came back a minute later and helped Harry jump into the living room. He still couldn’t really get used to the fact that they didn’t have boundaries again. As in, they were touching. No, scratch that. They were glued to each other for a minute or so at a time, and that was probably the longest Louis had had physical contact with anyone in the last three years; that is, if you count Niall out, with his octopus’ tendencies to be all over Louis.  
“Adventure Time!” Harry said and clapped his hands when Louis found the channel. Louis chuckled, handing him his cup and putting the plate between them.  
* * *  
Louis rose from his chair when the doors to the doctor opened. Harry walked out on two crutches, his right leg in cast.   
“Alright?” Louis asked him.  
“Yeah,” Harry said and bit his cheek. Louis frowned at him.  
“Is something wrong? Is it serious?”  
“No, it’s- he said it’s not the worst, and your bandage helped, but it’s going to take about two if not three weeks.”  
“So? What’s the problem?” Louis frowned, watching Harry hang his head.  
“I just didn’t want to be a bother to you, you know.”  
Louis snorted.  
“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s not like you fell on purpose. And I could do with some company till Cliff comes back.”  
Harry looked at him.  
“You don’t mind? I can cook for us and everything. And you don’t need to walk me anywhere anymore,” Harry said, raising one of his crutches.  
“Careful,” Louis said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Can’t have you falling again,” he said and Harry lowered his crutch. Louis stepped back.  
“Sorry.”  
“It’s alright. And don’t worry about bothering me or anything, okay?” Louis said and nodded for Harry to start walking.  
“Thank you,” Harry said, Louis walking slowly by his side. He stepped forward to hold the doors open. “Thanks,” Harry said again and Louis snorted.  
“You can quit thanking me, you know.”  
“Th- Yeah, alright,” Harry said through a smile and walked out carefully.  
“You know, I was wondering,” Louis said as they walked towards the car.   
“Yeah?”  
“How the hell did you not break your neck at any of the concerts? I mean, with your luck,” Louis said and gestured at him. Harry gave him a straight face.  
“Piss off. At least I was entertaining.”  
“Oh, yeah. The many falls of Harry Styles.”  
“You and Liam fell a fair bit as well, you know,” Harry said as they stopped by the car and Louis unlocked it. He opened the doors and took the crutches from Harry, leaving him to stand on one leg for a second.  
“Not as often as you,” he said, giving Harry his arm to lean on as he climbed into the front seat.  
“Drop it,” Harry said, plopping down. Louis poked him in the cheek before closing the doors. Harry watched him as he went around the car.  
“What was that?” he asked as Louis was fastening his seatbelt.  
“Mmm?” Louis looked at him, brows raised. “What do you mean?”  
Harry looked at him for a second and then turned to look at the road.  
“Forget it,” he muttered and scrunched his nose, the corners of his mouth going up a tiny bit. Louis turned away or else he would have been staring. “Want to get some flour so I can bake a cake?”  
“Bake a cake?” Louis turned to him, forgetting about the steering wheel for a second. He looked back at the parking lot when somebody started honking. “Alright, alright, I’m going!” he shouted into the window. “Jesus, have some patience, people,” Louis muttered quieter as they made it out of the lot. He could feel Harry watching him. “So a cake, ey?” Louis asked the road instead of Harry.  
“Yeah, I thought, now that I can walk a bit I could do something around the house. To compensate for the fact that you have to look after me,” he finished, his voice getting more and more uncertain towards the end.  
“Harry, come off it. We are not strangers, alright? I don’t mind having you around, I told you.”  
“Yeah, but it’d make me feel a lot better if I did something.”  
“Okay. Baking it is, then.”  
***  
Louis closed the doors to his room and took out his phone. Niall picked up almost at once.  
“Look who’s phoning,” he said instead of greeting and Louis grinned.  
“I missed you too, Nialler,” he said, coming closer to the window and looking out at the sea in the soft afternoon light. Harry was baking away in the kitchen downstairs.  
“So how is it going then? You and Harry are alright?”  
“I think so,” Louis said and leant his head against the window frame. It felt colder than he expected. “He twisted his ankle yesterday, so I had to move him to the main building instead.”  
“How the hell did he twist his ankle?”  
“We wanted to paint the fence and he fell off the ladder when he climbed down from the attic.”  
“We wanted? I see,” Niall said and Louis could hear the grin in his voice.  
“Drop it, Nialler,” Louis said, a smile nudging his lips, too. He could hear Harry’s faint music from downstairs. It made him feel domestic.  
“Whatever you say, Tommo. So Harry is living with you now?”  
“Yeah, he got a cast today, they said it’d take about two or three weeks, so. It’s gonna be a long ride,” Louis said and ran a hand through his hair. He sighed. “This is all so fucked up.”  
“Why? What’s up?”  
“I dunno, it’s just- mostly we are good, like, mates or whatever. But then Harry or I get into that mood, like- I dunno how to explain it. It’s just very clear that we cannot be proper mates, you know?”  
“Do you want to be?”  
“I dunno,” Louis said, flailing his hand around for noone to see. “That’s why I said it’s fucked up. I love the company and not having to be alone, but I can’t tell if it’s just a matter of having someone, anyone, here. You know what I mean?”  
“Erm. So you think it could have easily been me there with you and you’d feel just as happy?”  
“I guess,” Louis said and looked towards the door, as if he was able to see Harry through it. “I don’t know. Sometimes I think that and sometimes I think he is the only one I ever had this connection with. It’s so fucking difficult.”  
“Calm down, Tommo. It is fucked up, but try to watch Harry, I’d say? See what he wants and stuff and go from there?”  
“But what if I don’t want anything?”  
“That’s why I said concentrate on him, not you, you know? So you’ll like stop worrying about how to act or whatever.”  
Louis stared out at the sea again. It was licking the coast in gentle waves, dark blue against pale yellow.  
“Tommo?”  
“Yeah, sorry,” he said, blinking, “zoned off for a mo. Thanks for the advice.”  
“Any time, mate.”  
“How have you been? Album coming alright?”  
“Yep. We are talking a music video for the single now.”  
“Sick. When do you want to release it?”  
“Whenever it’s ready,” Niall said and Louis imagined him shrug. “Probably a few months later. But I’m sick of sitting on my bum all the time, I want to get back on the road.”  
Louis chuckled.  
“But what about golf?”  
“Nobody cancelled that. It’s just nice to have a change, you know?”  
“Aha, talk to me about it.”  
It was Niall’s turn to chuckle.  
“Alright then,” he said and Louis straightened up. “I gotta go now, I’m at my folks’, mum’s cooked dinner, I think.”  
“Alright. Call me any time, yeah?”  
“You too, Tommo. Keep me updated.”  
Louis snorted.  
“Say hi to your folks for me.”  
“Will do. Goodluck, mate.”  
“Bye.”  
Louis sighed and gave the sea one last look before leaving his room. He went down the stairs thinking about what Niall had said, but his thoughts left him when he caught a glimpse of Harry in the kitchen.  
He was standing on one leg and supporting himself with his hand around the counter, while he rummaged through the drawer for something. He took out a whisk, bopping his head to the song that was playing, and hopped awkwardly to the place where he had left the huge bowl which Louis didn’t even know he owned.  
Watch Harry, aha. Only if it didn’t make Louis’ heart ache with how much he missed having someone to be domestic with.  
“How is the cake going?” he asked, entering the kitchen. Harry started and turned to him. He smiled.  
“I thought I’d make a chocolate one, alright? That’s your favourite?”  
“I don’t remember you complaining, though,” Louis said, shaking a finger at him. Harry grinned wider while Louis plopped down into one of the kitchen chairs. Harry hopped around to face him fully, bowl and whisk in hand, leaning his body against the counters.  
“Nothing wrong with a good old chocolate cake,” Harry shrugged.  
“Do you have everything you need? Should I go buy something else?”  
“I have everything. If you don’t mind that I use the dark chocolate bar I’ve found?” Harry said, pausing in his whisking. Louis probably should have felt annoyed that Harry searched his drawers, but he really didn’t mind.   
“Dark chocolate? You found dark chocolate in this house?”  
Harry snorted.  
“I was surprised, too. Expected only that disgustingly sweet milk stuff you eat.”  
“Hey! Don’t you have a go at milk chocolate! It’s the best.”  
“I beg to differ,” Harry said calmly. This was important! Louis raised his eyebrows.  
“Why would you eat something bitter voluntarily? It’s like drinking coffee plain black. Who on earth does that? First thing in the morning? Ugh,” Louis shook his shoulders, feeling uneasy.  
“Yeah, coffee is gross, I agree. But dark chocolate is sweet enough.”  
“Enough for whom? Weirdos who love bitter stuff?”  
Harry rolled his eyes.  
“You are such a child sometimes,” he said and his lips stretched up into a smile. He put the bowl on the counter and jumped to face away from Louis, reaching for something to add to the dough.  
“I’m almost thirty, I’m not a child.”  
“You are only twenty seven, and thirty is not soon. Three years is a very long time,” Harry said and there was a moment between them, when nothing moved. Louis swallowed and Harry turned to him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.”  
“No,” Louis said. “It’s- it’s true, really. Seemed long enough for me, anyway.”  
“Yeah,” Harry said and looked at his bowl. “Erm. I don’t want it to come across as anything weird, but- erm,” he ran a hand through his short hair, still looking at the table top. He raised his head and looked at Louis. “I really missed you,” Harry said then and Louis’ breath caught for a moment. He made himself nod and found his voice.  
“Yeah, me too. I think I’m glad we met again, actually. Don’t know if I’d have the balls to meet with you voluntarily.”  
Harry smiled.  
“Same. I hope we keep it up, whatever that is. I don’t want to lose your company again,” he said, looking Louis in the eye. Louis just nodded.  
“Thanks for saying that. And I hope so, too.”  
Harry’s smile softened as he nodded. He looked at his dough then.  
“Could you turn on the oven, please?”  
***  
Louis woke up with his neck aching. He squinted against the light pouring from the window — did he not draw the curtains last night?  
He felt someone warm and very very close to himself. A rush of adrenaline woke Louis up completely, but he managed to stay put and not move. He opened his eyes and tried to assess the damage. He was sitting on the sofa with his head on Harry’s shoulder and his knees were hurting from being bent for too long where he was curled up against Harry’s side. Harry was sitting with his injured leg propped up against the table, his arm around Louis’ shoulders, squeezing him closer still.  
Louis decided to carefully untangle himself from Harry and pretend nothing had ever happened, but before he could do that he felt Harry’s hand on his shoulder move — he was stroking Louis’ skin where it was exposed right under the short sleeve. It was such a soft touch of fingers, that if Louis’ wasn’t awake he wouldn’t probably feel it.   
He closed his eyes, feeling his heart rate pick up. Harry must be awake and Louis was silently praying he didn’t notice him wake up, because he had no explanation neither for Harry nor for himself. He felt warmth in the pit of his stomach, but at the same time dread’s cold fist squeezing his innards. He tried to will himself to stay still and tried to remember how they had ended up like that. The TV wasn’t working, but Louis didn’t remember turning it off, so it must have been Harry. Did it mean Harry didn’t leave even after Louis had fallen asleep on his shoulder? Shit, shit, shit.  
Louis remembered they ate Harry’s cake for dinner and watched films, and he probably drooled off at some point. How he ended up so close to Harry he had no idea. Fuck his body and its habits.  
Louis felt Harry shift a bit and make a soft sound and had half the mind to drop pretence and ask him if his ankle was okay, but his thoughts left his mind the very next second. He felt Harry’s kiss in his hair and everything inside him frose. It probably wasn’t even a kiss, the moment stretched out into seconds. Louis felt goosebumps arise on his skin from the back of his head all the way down his spine. Harry’s touch — both hands and lips — was gentle, almost not there. He nosed right above Louis’ hairline and left a soft peck on his forehead before withdrawing his lips completely. Louis wanted to scream and cry, and he didn’t know if that would be out of sheer terror, or endearment, or softness that his heart seemed to be swelling with.   
Harry removed his hand, ever so gently, and Louis was left only to lean his head against Harry’s shoulder. He was giving Louis an escape route, a way out. He should probably take it or things could go terribly south. But he couldn’t do it to Harry. Even if Harry knew he was awake, Louis couldn’t just stand up and walk out on him. He loved him too much for that.  
So he stayed, folding his arms, eyes still closed, and fidgeting a little to make himself comfortable on Harry’s shoulder. His knees were still screaming at him, but he ignored the dull ache in favour of letting his knees touch Harry’s tummy, right where the butterfly was. Louis could even feel it rise and fall as Harry breathed. He was determined to not make it awkward, so he didn’t do anything more than that; and if it was cowardice of his that made him pretend he was asleep, then so be it. Because Harry returned his arm back around Louis’ shoulders after a few seconds and kissed his hair again, and fuck all the past to the moon and back if Louis got to still have moments like these in his life.  
He couldn’t fall asleep anymore. Instead, he spent the time listening to Harry’s breathing which didn’t seem to slow down for a long time. He was probably still awake, too. The thought made Louis so incredibly sad, that he soon felt a lump build up in his throat with each breath. He breathed past it with more and more difficulty, until he finally managed to will the tears away. His eyes must be red though.   
Oh, how he wished he could just break down right there and then. Maybe Harry would even kiss it better.  
He remembered their kisses from the past and felt jealous of his younger self. He got to be carefree and irresponsible; got to live the dream life and actually juggle his relationship and career at the same time. Only that in the end he dropped both and fell straight down the rabbit hole.  
He could feel the weight of Harry’s hand on his shoulder, warm and reassuring. What would happen if Louis went for a kiss right now? No one ever kissed him like Harry did, and if it was an exaggeration, Louis didn’t care.   
After what felt like hours of their peaceful silence, Harry relaxed against him. When Louis listened to his slowed down breathing long enough to be sure he was asleep, he gently straightened up, trying not to wake Harry. He took his hand off his shoulder and carefully put it in Harry’s lap where it curled up instantly, missing something to touch. He sat up straight, taking a moment to look at Harry. He was indeed asleep, face features looking tender in the morning light. All the shadows on his face were soft, his lips a tiny bit more swollen than in the daytime, eyelashes fluttering — he must be dreaming about something. Harry looked young and soft and open, and all Louis wanted to do was scoop him up and pepper all of him with kisses. But he couldn’t, not without harming his own sanity.  
Instead, he leant closer and left a soft peck on Harry’s cheekbone, right where it met his ear. Harry shifted his face closer, but didn’t open his eyes. Louis leant back and smiled at him, sadly. Harry was a wonderful opportunity he had lost 3 years ago, and if you put Louis from today into the day they broke up, he would slap himself on the face and tell him what an idiot he was for thinking the things he thought. But unfortunately time machines didn’t exist, and time was not a cure. So Louis got up, ignoring his whole body screaming for him to stay as close as possible to Harry, and left the room.  
He went into the kitchen, thinking of what he should do next. He felt warm and blissful from such an unusual morning and he didn’t want to ruin it. And he didn’t want to avoid Harry either. So he took out two cups instead of one, and made one of plain black, adding a splash of milk to the other. He put together a few sandwiches and plated the rest of the cake from the night before.   
He entered the living room, carefully balancing two cups and a big plate in and between his hands and forearms, and found Harry in the same position, still sleeping. He put the cups and the plate onto the table and turned on the TV, muting the volume. He bent down and gently shook Harry’s shoulder.  
“Harry,” he whispered and Harry started blinking awake lazily. He frowned and looked around, looking like a lost kitten, till his eyes found Louis and went a bit wider than they should have. Louis bit his cheek and drew his hand away. He smiled softly. “I brought some tea,” he said quietly then, straightening up and gesturing to the table.  
“Oh,” Harry said in a croaky voice and coughed into his fist. “Thanks. Erm- very thoughtful of you,” he said, trying to sit up straighter and not looking at Louis. The latter sank onto the sofa, making sure to leave enough space between them, but not too much. He put the plate between them.  
“Have at it,” he gestured to the tea with another smile and Harry took his cup, looking small. Louis turned up the volume of the TV.  
“What are we doing today?” Harry asked after a few minutes, staring at the screen. His voice sounded more like its usual self though.  
“Nothing, really. I could paint the fence if it’s not raining.”  
Harry finally looked over at him, a soft smile on his face.  
“Did you check the forecast or would it be the same as two days ago?”  
“They didn’t say about the rain that day! It was supposed to be sunny all the way into the night,” Louis said, feeling the mood lift up. “It’s not my fault that the rain decided to come.”  
“Of course,” Harry said and grinned before biting a sandwich. “Can I han’ ou’ wi’ you ou’side, ‘en? I don’ feel like witing laly,” he said through a mouthful and Louis scrunched up his face.  
“Just admit that you are lazy, Harold.”  
“No!” Harry said with a frown, crumbles flying everywhere. “Shorry,” he said, swiping some off of Louis’ knee.  
“It’s alright, mum,” Louis smiled, taking a sip.  
“Fuck off,” Harry said and Louis was sure if he wasn’t still chewing he would show him his tongue. He snorted.  
“Yeah, of course. But it’s going to stink of paint, just saying.”  
“I’ll live through it,” Harry said, having finally swallowed his mouthful. “These are disgusting, by the way.”  
“Yeah, that’s why you bit off so much. Because they are entirely disgusting.”  
Harry grinned at him again, blushing, and turned towards the TV.  
“You read my mind,” he said before biting off another enormous piece.  
* * *   
Louis’ back hurt from painting for the last few hours. The sun was burning on his skin, even though it was only spring. He straightened up, groaning, and turned to Harry who was sitting on his bum right there on the grass, in the shade (fucker) a few feet away, and writing something in his notebook. He looked up at Louis when he heard the groan and grinned.  
“Tired?”  
Louis squinted against the sun at him, stretching his hands up. Harry was still watching him.  
“I thought you said you didn’t feel like writing?” he said, nodding at the notebook in Harry’s hands. The latter frowned, glancing down and closing it at once.  
“I didn’t write anything,” he said, watching the grass with way more interest than necessary. Louis bent forward, hands on his knees, and cocked his head to the right.   
“Are you lying to me, Harry Styles?” he said through a smirk. Harry looked up, eyes wide, and tried to school his face into irritation. He failed, though. Louis could see right through him, and he looked like a man caught in something.  
“Why would I do that?” Harry said, frowning and stroking his notebook with a thumb, but looking at Louis.  
“You tell me,” Louis said as he shrugged and straightened up. Harry followed the movement with his eyes and watched Louis come closer and plop down on the grass beside him. Louis sighed. “You don’t have to tell me, Harry. I’m just taking the piss,” Louis said and nudged his shoulder. “Do you have some water?”  
“Here,” Harry said and handed him his bottle. He watched Louis take a sip, and then said, looking at the grass again. “I- remember I tried drawing years ago?” he glanced at Louis as he said it, but very briefly. Louis smiled, turning his face towards the sea.  
“Of course. I bought you an easel for your birthday that year, remember?”  
“It’s still in my study, actually. I use it all the time,” Harry said in a quiet, careful voice. Louis turned to look at him and caught his eye, feeling something heavy on his heart.  
“You do?”  
“Yep.”  
“Must be a good one, then?”  
“Good enough for me,” Harry said and shrugged, smiling small. Louis smiled back before turning away.  
“I’m glad you like it.”  
“Yeah, thanks. So, I was just drawing today. I don’t have an easel here with me, obviously,” Harry said and ran a hand through his hair. “So I just sketch some stuff out.”  
“Oh. Can I see?”  
Harry looked terrified for a moment, before he took out his phone.  
“I can show you pictures, if you’d like? These are not that good, anyway,” he said, pocketing his notebook and pen. Louis frowned, but decided not to push it.  
“Alright, yeah. Pictures it is,” he said and scooped a bit closer, stopping a few inches away from Harry. The latter found the photos on his phone and gave it to Louis.   
“These are the ones I like the most,” he said and Louis smiled at him before looking at the pictures.  
“Wow. These are proper nice,” he said, looking at abstract portraits, flowers, landscapes. “Do you do that often?”  
“Not really. It takes lots of time, you know? Maybe once a month, sometimes more if I’m lucky.”  
“Why are they all pink though?” Louis said and glanced at Harry.   
“That’s the colours of my first album. I sort of felt inspired to work in that direction,” he said with a shrug and Louis nodded.  
“That’s really nice, Harry,” Louis said, giving back his phone. “I mean, I’m not an expert, of course, but I love these.”  
“Thanks,” Harry said and smiled, no, beamed at him, blushing a little. “I just sometimes think it’s a bit pretentious of me to do it, you know?”  
“Why? Because you do music already?”  
“Kind of,” Harry nodded and put his hand up against the sun, because it had finally reached him, too. “There are people who are truly good at that, but nobody knows them, and here I am, already famous.”  
“But it’s not like you sell them, is it?” Louis said and laid back, looking at the clear blue sky. He turned his head to look at Harry, who was already watching him. Harry shook his head.  
“No. Mum likes them a lot, though. All of these are in her house now.”  
“Mums never change,” Louis said and smiled, looking at the sky again. “I’m sure she is proud of you,” he said sincerely and felt Harry lay down by his side, too. They were both looking at the sky in silence for a while, and then Harry asked quietly, timidly.  
“Do you-” he stumbled and Louis heard him swallow before he continued. “Do you think they can see us?”  
“Of course,” Louis said at once, not missing a bit. “Of course, love. I’m sure Robin is very proud of you,” Louis said and reached out his hand to find Harry’s. He squeezed his fingers briefly and let go, but Harry caught his hand gently and stroked Louis’ fingers with his thumb. Louis did the same, both silent for a second.  
“I’m sure Johannah is proud of you, too,” Harry said then, barely above a whisper, his hand still holding on to Louis’. Louis smiled bitterly, feeling the weight on his heart heavier than usual.  
“For what? For running away from my problems? I’m a coward, Harry, that’s what I am,” Louis said and felt that these were true. He didn’t remember thinking like that before though. He felt Harry’s grip on his fingers tighten.  
“Don’t say it like that.”  
“I’m calling it what it is.”  
“It’s not that, Lou. I know it’s not,” Harry said with another squeeze to his fingers. Louis was about to retort, but Harry cut across him: “You just had way too many problems at once, and needed some time alone, that’s all.”  
“Three years is way too long for some alone time, you know,” Louis said, feeling that if Harry let go of his hand now, he would fall down the rabbit hole again and never get out. So he gripped it tighter, and immediately felt Harry’s thumb stroking his knuckles again.   
“What matters is that you knew you’d come back. You wrote songs, and once Cliff is here you’ll be back to your normal life.”  
Without you, Louis thought but didn’t say out loud. He wondered if Harry knew that, too.  
“Will it be the same though?”  
“Well, everything changes one way or another. It took me a long time to get used to performing alone.”  
“Yeah, Nialler told me the same thing. But I guess I’ll just have to try it out.”  
“And you always have me and Niall, remember? We are always here for you, Lou. And I’m sure Liam is, too.”  
Louis smiled, feeling tears well up his eyes. He was so pathetic, fuck him. He took a deep breath, willing the tears away for the second time that day.  
“Thanks, Harry. Means a world,” he said into the sky and squeezed Harry’s hand one more time.  
“Any time.”  
They watched the clouds fly in the sky for another few minutes, hands still clasped. When Louis was sure he wouldn’t cry if he sat up, he gave Harry’s hand one last squeeze and gently untangled their fingers before sitting up. He looked at the half finished fence and sighed, turning towards Harry. The latter was watching him with a hand in the air to shelter against the sun.  
“What if we call it a day and go have some lunch?”  
“You mean, what if I cook the lunch?” Harry said, smiling.  
“I’ll help with what I can, promise,” Louis said and stood up. He gave Harry his hand. Harry sighed and took it, before Louis hoisted him up.  
“Alright. Do you think we have stuff for pasta?”

After dinner that night was finished, Louis leant back on the sofa, his head on the backrest.   
“Fuck,” he groaned, turning his head from side to side. His neck was aching.  
“What is it?” Harry asked from his left and Louis opened his eyes to look at him. Harry was putting their plates on the table and sat straight, frowning at Louis.  
“Me neck is killing me.”  
“Getting old?” Harry said through a grin.  
“Fuck off,” Louis said and turned away again, thinking of paying someone else to finish the fence.  
“I could give you a rub if you want?” Harry asked, sounding uncertain, and Louis turned to him way to fast for his tired muscles.  
“Shit,” he muttered, rubbing his neck with a hand. “You sure?” he asked Harry.  
“Yeah, come on,” Harry sat further back on the sofa and spread his legs, one on the table, as always. “Sit here, please,” he said and gestured to the floor in front of him.  
Don’t make it weird, don’t make it weird, don’t make it weird, Louis thought to himself. He got up.  
“Alright,” he said and walked around the table to plop down to where Harry had pointed. Why was he so nervous? They used to do it all the fucking time. He fidgeted, trying to be more comfortable, and Harry handed him a cushion.  
“Here,” he said, so close to Louis it caused him goosebumps.  
“Thanks,” he said, placing the cushion underneath him. His shoulders were pressing against Harry’s knees, and it felt way too intimate. It shouldn’t, should it? “Alright, back master, I’m ready,” he said, shaking his shoulders and trying to loosen the foreign tension.  
“Okay. Tell me if it hurts too much, yeah?”  
“I know the drill,” Louis said and smiled, even though Harry couldn't see it.  
He felt warm tentative fingers on his shoulders, that were so light at first it hurt. But then Harry tightened his hold in such a familiar way and started rubbing firm but gentle circles in just the right places. Louis felt strangely at home.  
“Oooh,” he moaned when Harry got a particularly tight muscle. “Shit, love, you are the best,” he said with his eyes closed and felt Harry’s chuckle ruffle his hair. So they were that close. Okay.  
“I thought you swore not to ever compliment me?”  
“I do make excep- ooh, fuck this is good,” he said again.   
He was feeling like he should feel ashamed for being so vocal about it, but fuck was he tired and Harry’s hands felt amazing. Harry’s movements became more and more familiar, less tentative, and soon Louis was relaxed enough to rest his head against Harry’s knee. He felt like goo here on the floor, and he didn’t know if he could make his body obey him. The only thing tight was his tummy, but it was probably because of Harry’s unexpected proximity. Louis’ thoughts went back to the days when they used to give each other back rubs after the concerts, up in their hotel rooms, and then they would make love to each other. Harry would usually kiss his way down his back, after he massaged it through and through, where he’d be sat on Louis’ bum. He would undress Louis completely, and then Louis would do the same to him; and they would travel each other’s bodies with their mouths and fingers, so familiar and yet so exciting. Louis remembered how loud Harry usually was, and how it didn’t go away with years. He remembered how at first he was concerned about others hearing him, but he honestly couldn’t last long with Harry’s face like that and those sweet sounds that escaped him. Fuck, they used to do it for years.   
“Lou?” Harry whispered from somewhere very close to Louis’ ear and he opened his eyes. Harry’s hands were still on his shoulders, but not rubbing, only gently squeezing. Harry was still very close though; Louis could feel the heat of his body on the back of his neck.  
“Sorry, dozed off,” Louis said and unglued his cheek from Harry’s knee, feeling his cheeks heat up. He was so embarrassing, wasn’t he?   
“It’s okay,” Harry said and straightened up, withdrawing his hands and Louis felt cold. He sat up straighter, moving his neck and feeling no pain.   
“Thanks for the massage. That was amazing,” he said, looking over his shoulder. Harry just shrugged, pulling his blanket closer over his shoulders. He looked so domestic Louis could cry. But he wouldn’t.  
“Any time,” Harry said, looking small again. Was he remembering their fun in the hotels too, then?  
“Do you need any help? Maybe another blanket or tea?” Louis asked, standing up.  
“No, thanks, I’m alright. You are off to bed?”  
“Yeah, I think I’ll have an early one,” Louis said and took their dirty plates.   
“Good night, then,” Harry said and smiled at him before averting his eyes and curling in on himself.  
“Night. Call me if you need anything, yeah?” Louis said, still standing in front of him. He didn’t want to leave.  
“Sure,” Harry said without looking at him. He was staring at the TV.  
“Alright,” Louis said, finally taking a step. It didn’t feel as hard as he expected it to.  
He had a rough time falling asleep that night: memories kept coming and going, showing him what he would never have again.  
* * *   
“Louie!”  
“Oi!” Louis shouted, looking down from the top of the stairs.  
“Hi!”  
Louis snorted and yawned. He woke up a few minutes ago and was about to go have his tea. He walked down the stairs slowly.  
“Did you call me to say hi?” he said when he was in the hall, looking around to see where Harry was. “Where are you, by the way?”  
“I’m in the kitchen!”  
Louis entered the room scratching at his tummy. Harry was sitting in one of the kitchen chairs, his feet on the other, crutches propped against the wall behind him.  
“What’s up?” Louis said.  
“Can you make me some tea?” Harry asked with a smile and Louis chuckled.  
“Can’t you make it on your own? How long have you been up?” Louis asked, bringing the kettle under the tap and pouring some water into it.  
“Not long, maybe ten minutes. I didn’t fall in the loo today.”  
“That’s,” Louis yawned as he turned the kettle on. “An achievement,” he said, turning towards Harry, his eyes only half-open.  
“Did you want to wake me up when you shouted?” he frowned, folding his arms.  
“No, I know it’s impossible. I heard you do something upstairs, and reckoned you were up already,” Harry said and shrugged. Louis yawned again, before turning around and looking for cups. Since Harry moved in, he had way too many clean utensils. “Why so early, by the way?” Harry asked from behind.  
“Dunno,” Louis said with a shrug, throwing two teabags in. “I sometimes wake up too early or can’t fall asleep for long.”  
“Oh. And what do you do then?” Harry asked and Louis glanced at him over his shoulder.  
“Well, I sometimes write, sometimes just sit by the sea,” he said and turned off the kettle, waiting a little for the water to cool.  
“Want to go sit by the sea now?” Harry asked, excited, and Louis chuckled again.  
“No problem,” he said and poured the water into their tea. “We’ll need blankets, though. It’s still cold in the mornings.”  
“Oh, mine is in the guest house. I think we didn’t fetch it when we took my clothes.”  
“I didn’t fetch it, you meant,” Louis said as he turned to Harry again, letting his tea brew. “It’s not a problem. I’ve got plenty of them.”  
“Thanks. You reckon we’ll catch the sunrise?”  
Louis looked into the widow, skies already light.  
“I think it’s a bit late for that. Should still be lovely, though.”  
“Alright,” Harry said and took his crutches. He stood up as Louis took out some milk. “I’ll go look for blankets.”  
“Try not to fall, will you?”  
“Sure,” Harry said as he disappeared into the hall. Louis added a splash of milk into his tea, keeping Harry’s plain, and stretched again, trying to get rid off the stiffness in his body. He took the two cups and a box of biscuits, and found Harry in front of the open closet.  
“Found ‘em?”  
“Yep,” Harry said and leant forward, his sweatpants doing nothing to conceal his even more perfect bum. Louis looked away, gripping the cups tighter. Harry turned to him, two blankets on his shoulders, grinning. “Let’s go?”  
“You have to put on a shoe though,” Louis said as he slid into his old trainers. Harry frowned at his uninjured foot in a woolen sock.   
“Shit. Could you help me?”  
Louis nodded and put his cups and biscuits down on the floor.  
“Sit down on the bench, please,” he said to Harry, nodding at the seat by the doors. Harry did as he was told and Louis crouched down with his trainer in hand. “You stink, mate,” he said and smirked up at Harry as he slid on his shoe. Harry wiggled the toes of the injured foot, where they were visible from the cast.   
“I can’t really well shower, can I?”  
“Do you plan to be dirty for all two weeks?” Louis said as he tied the trainer. He straightened up and helped Harry to his feet again.  
“I dunno. I guess I could clean myself with a wet towel or something.”  
Louis paused for a second, imagining Harry naked and with a towel. He shook his head to get rid of the thought and picked up his tea and the box.  
“Or you could put on a plastic bag on your cast and just shower like a normal person?” he said, opening the doors into the dimly lit yard.  
“Have you ever taken a shower on one leg?”   
“Harry, you can’t go without washing for two or three weeks. That’s disgusting,” Louis said and glanced at him over his shoulder. Harry was slowly going down the steps. Louis waited for him and they went to the beach slowly, stopping right in front of the sand, because Harry couldn’t walk further on crutches. They sat down in the grass and Louis handed him his tea.  
“Well, yeah, but still. I can’t see the way to do it.”  
“Just sit on your bum,” Louis said, taking a sip and feeling finally awake. He looked at the sea and the rising sun, getting lost in his thoughts for a second. Harry kept silent, too, both watching the beautiful morning.  
“Okay,” Harry said after a while.  
“You do it right after we finish the tea, alright?” Louis asked, still watching the water. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”  
“Yeah. Do you get used to it?”  
“Never.”  
Louis finished his tea and put the cup aside, noticing Harry’s already there. His gaze lingered at the two cups side by side, something he hadn’t seen in a long while. He turned towards the sea again, the sun now completely above the water.  
“Lou? Can I tell you something?”  
“Of course.”  
“I always wanted to visit a place like this one.”  
“With pretty sunrises?” Louis said and looked at Harry. He was transfixed by the scene in front of him, his skin painted in soft pinks and oranges from the sky, his green eyes almost golden.  
“Yeah,” he said and Louis turned away again, not really able to take the sight of Harry so lovely for so long. “And a quiet one. I get tired of the noise sometimes.”  
“Me, too.”  
They fell into another silence, Louis fidgeting with his fingers, where he was clasping his hands on his bent knees. He could hear the water lick the coast in soft waves, Harry’s breathing feather-light to his right. What a lovely morning.  
“That’s how I chose it actually,” Louis said then in a quiet voice. “Just searched for the quietest spot in the kingdom.”  
Harry chuckled, and Louis mirrored his smile, both still looking at the sea.  
“What? You did the same?” he asked, and saw a blurry Harry shrug.  
“But I heard there is a bigger place nearby? I even read the poet Dylan Thomas loved to spend time there?”  
“Laugharne, yeah,” Louis said and turned to Harry, resting his head against his right knee. He closed his eyes, sleep still tugging at his heavy limbs. “We can visit it, if you want to. But I think we’d better wait till your cast is off.”  
“Oh, really? You won’t mind?”  
“Why not,” Louis shrugged, eyes still closed. “I never had a proper visit to there meself. Couldn’t leave Cliff behind, and when I took him there, we just ran around the streets.”  
“So he is the playful type?” Harry said and Louis opened one eye to only see him grinning.  
“You have no idea,” Louis said and sighed before straightening up. “So, let’s go wash you,” he said and took his cup. He stood up and Harry followed him with his eyes.  
“Sounds promising,” he said as Louis helped him to his feet and handed him his crutches. Louis put the two blankets around Harry’s shoulders and took his cup, too.  
“Don’t get your hopes up, darling,” Louis said, leading the way forward and not looking back to see Harry’s reaction. He heard the man chuckle behind his back.  
“Can’t help it,” he only said and Louis held the doors open for him, waiting for Harry to carefully climb the stairs. “Merci,” Harry nodded as he passed him. “Could you take off my trainer?” he said, stopping in the doorway. Louis rolled his eyes, probably way too fondly, and stepped around Harry to put the cups into the sink first. He emerged back from the kitchen and crouched down.  
“You are such a pain in the arse, you know it?” he said as he put the shoe aside and straightened up. Harry gave him a lopsided grin.   
“I do what I can,” he said and shrugged, which made Louis roll his eyes again.  
“Come on, you flirt.”  
Louis led the way again, stopping before the first step of the stairs.  
“You reckon we should do it without your crutches?” he said and gestured at the staircase. Harry squinted at the thing, looking thoughtful. He was way too lovely so early in the morning.   
“I can just climb it on my bum?”  
Louis raised his eyebrows at him, but nodded.  
“If you want to,” he said and shrugged, taking the crutches Harry was handing him. “Support one’s self expression and all that,” Louis said as Harry gripped his forearm, his other hand on the wall, and sat down onto the third step.   
“Piss off,” he said and pushed up with his healthy leg, leaning on his arms and climbing the stairs like some weird insect. Louis snorted.  
“You look ridiculous,” he said and followed Harry on his own two, crutches in hand. He kept laughing at the look of concentration on Harry’s face. But he had to admit, Harry was already on top of the stairs, waiting for Louis to take the last few steps.  
“I mean, if you wanted to carry me upstairs, you could’ve just told me,” Harry said with a straight face and reached out his hand for Louis to help him. When he was on his two again, Louis handed him the crutches.  
“I don’t think I’m strong enough, to be honest. You look massive,” he said, heading for the big bathroom. He opened the doors and turned towards Harry.  
“Did you just call me fat?”  
“I did no such thing. Here you go,” Louis gestured into the open room and Harry’s mouth fell open.  
“You have a proper bath?” he said, entering the room, Louis right behind him. They looked around at the bath by the window. It was a pretty sight. Especially with a naked Harry inside, Louis thought. He shook his head and looked at Harry, still dressed.  
“Yeah. You can use that instead of shower,” he said and nodded behind Harry where the standing shower was. “I’ll just go fetch your clothes and leave you to it, okay? If you need anything, just shout, you know the drill,” Louis said, smiling and already walking back first. He gripped the door handle. “Be here in a moment.”  
Louis left the doors open and descended the stairs again, taking a plasticbag from a kitchen drawer and Harry’s clothes from the living room.   
“Hey Harry!” he shouted from the bottom of the stairs.  
“Yeah!”  
“Do you want me to bring you your razor?”  
“Yeah, thank you! It’s in the small bathroom!”  
Louis entered the bath a minute later and found Harry frowning at his sweater.  
“What’s wrong?” Louis said, putting the things he was carrying beside the sink.  
“Erm. I don’t know how to take it all off without sitting down. Do you have a chair here?”  
“Oh, sorry, one second,” Louis said and hurried to his room. He threw off his clothes from his chair and brought it into the bathroom. “Here,” he put it right by the bath.  
“Thanks.”  
“I’ll leave you to it, then? You reckon you’ll manage?”  
“Yeah, sure.”  
“The shower head is here, just don’t use the tap, I don’t think it’s okay to with a cast, alright?”  
“Yeah, mum, I’m not five,” Harry smiled at Louis, sinking onto the chair. “Can you give me those?” he said and gestured to the sink.   
“Here you go,” Louis dumped everything into Harry’s lap. “Oh, the towel,” he said and reached for the shelf above the toilet seat. “Here. Now you are all set. Call me when you need me, okay?”  
“Lou, calm down, it’s just a bath. I won’t fall.”  
“Okay, okay. Have fun,” he said, finally leaving the room.   
Louis set about making a breakfast for them, which basically meant another two cups of tea and a bunch of sandwiches. He mostly made it through his cup, when he heard for the second time that morning:  
“Louie!”  
“Coming!” he shouted back, gulping down the rest of his tea and hurrying up the stairs. He knocked on the doors:  
“Are you still naked?” he asked.  
“I can undress if you want me to,” he heard Harry say and rolled his eyes, swinging the doors open.   
Harry was sitting on his chair in a new pair of sweats with his hair wet. Louis’ gaze lingered on his chest and then on the happy trail that disappeared into the sweatpants. Oof.   
“Lou?” Harry asked and Louis snapped his eyes back to him. Harry pulled his t-shirt on, a grin on his face. Louis bit his lip. He was caught staring. Embarrassing.  
He looked around and saw a pile of Harry’s clothes on the floor.  
“Is it laundry?” he asked then, pointing at them.  
“Yeah. I’ll do that later,” Harry said, looking at them.  
“I can take care of it. You have anything else to wash?” Louis said, picking up the clothes. Harry was watching him, looking less smug now.  
“Yeah, but I can do it on my own, don’t worry.”  
“Come off it. I was going to do my laundry anyway,” Louis lied on the spot. He did have to do his at some point though.  
“If you say so,” Harry said. “I just don’t want it to be a bother.”  
“Well, you cook, I clean,” Louis said and shrugged, giving Harry a small smile. “I’ll just go drop these off and come back for you, okay? I’ve got sandwiches and tea downstairs,” Louis said over his shoulder, already walking out.  
“Thanks!”   
Why did he have to be so attractive? Louis had sort of forgotten how pretty Harry was, even outside the fact that Louis loved the man. His lovely eyes, his body, his hair, his hands… Louis dropped off the clothes into the laundry basket downstairs and headed back to fetch Harry. Louis probably needed to get laid, that was all. Three years is a long fucking time, pardon the pun.  
“Ready?” he asked Harry as he entered the room and found him looking around in the same position he left him. Harry looked at him and nodded.  
“Sure,” he said and reached out both hands, looking like a child. It was hard for Louis to put Harry the child and Harry the sex on legs together. He was one strange man.  
Louis helped him up by one hand and handed him the crutches.  
“Here you go.”  
“Thanks.”  
“Come on, your tea must be cold by now,” Louis said, tapping him on the shoulder and following right behind, ready to catch.  
“How inconsiderate of you,” Harry said, glancing over his shoulder. They left the room and were heading for the stairs.  
“Careful,” Louis said, one hand on Harry’s elbow. He took it back at once. “And how could I know you’d take ages in a bloody shower?”  
“Well, at least now I don’t stink. I smell ‘spring fresh’.”  
Louis snorted, his hands still hovering close to Harry, in case he stumbled on the steps. Those were tricky.  
“Is that what you call yourself now?”  
“Well, that’s what your shower gel told me, so.”  
They took the last few steps and Louis breathed in relief now.   
“Shower gels don’t talk, Harry,” Louis said then. Harry’s body looked particularly good from behind. His back and arm muscles kept bulging when he took each step and that was bloody fascinating to watch. Louis swallowed and made himself look at Harry’s hair. But it was catching the light in such a lovely way that it didn’t really help the matters.  
“Whatever you say, mister,” Harry said as they entered the kitchen.   
“Here,” Louis said, finally putting his hand on Harry’s elbow again and helping him sit down.  
“I can do it on my own, you know?” Harry said not unkindly.  
“‘Thank you’ will be enough,” Louis said, grabbing the two cups from the table. He put the kettle on to make another cup for Harry.  
“You going to finish the fence today?”  
“Yep,” Louis said, popping the last letter. “Unfortunately.”  
“I can give you another neck massage?” Harry asked almost and Louis chortled, something hot spilling in his tummy. He poured the water into Harry’s cup.  
“Thanks, mum, very nice of you.”  
“No problem.”


	6. 6

Louis got up when he saw the doors to the doctor open. Harry walked out on his own two without a cast or crutches, grinning.  
“All set?” Louis asked him.  
“Yep. And I remember you owe me a trip,” Harry said, raising his eyebrows knowingly at the end. Louis sighed.  
“I remember it, too,” he said, nodding at the entrance. “Let’s go.”  
“Look how serious we are,” Harry teased from behind. Louis rolled his eyes as he walked out, Harry right behind him. “You won’t even hold the doors open for me anymore?”  
“Well, your hands aren’t busy, are they?” Louis said, glancing at Harry over his shoulder. He smirked when noticed Harry pout. Such a child.  
“I see,” Harry said, folding his arms. They stopped by the car and Louis turned to him.  
“Wanna drive?”  
“Me?” Harry said, dropping his hands and raising his eyebrows.   
“You see anyone else here?” Louis said, looking around with a frown.  
“Thanks,” Harry said and Louis looked at him again. They grinned at each other.   
“Don’t break it though,” Louis said, handing Harry the keys.  
“You do know I never broke a car and you did?” Harry asked, going around to the driver’s seat.  
“That’s still my car you are driving,” Louis said as he got into the passenger seat. That was one strange feeling. Harry plopped down beside him, fastening the seat belt.  
“Sorry, what did you say? I can’t hear you from my driver’s seat.”  
Louis rolled his eyes, but his lips stretched up into a smile.  
“Piss off, Harold.”  
They made it out onto the main road in pleasant silence; Louis took the chance to enjoy the landscape of endless fields and cloudy sky. It was windy today.  
“Lou?” Harry asked after some time.  
“Mmm?”  
“Do you think we might see Cliff in that town?”  
Louis looked at Harry, who glanced back at him. He shrugged, running a hand through his hair.  
“I dunno. I mean, I put up signs there, too, when he ran away, but nobody phoned me about it, so.”  
“Do you miss him?”  
“Yeah,” Louis said, looking into distance and not really seeing anything. “He is my best mate here; I haven’t made proper friends with the villagers.”  
“We could search for him if you want to?”  
Louis chuckled joylessly. They were driving through the village now.  
“Clifford is not really good at being on his own. My best chance is that someone took him in. He won’t be out there lurking in the forests or something.”  
There was a pause when Harry got onto the country road and they saw Louis’ house in the distance.  
“We could put up new signs? Or call the shelters again. For all we know they got taken off in those weeks, and people just don’t know about them,” Harry said, turning to look at Louis after he parked in front of the house. Louis nodded again.  
“Yeah. Yeah, that might work. Thanks for helping.”  
“Best I can do,” Harry said and shrugged. “How about some pasta for dinner?”

They ate pasta in the living room again, watching some cooking show on the TV. Louis put away his plate, glancing at Harry as he drew the blanket closer over himself. Harry was sitting cross legged not that far away, finishing his tomato pasta.  
“How about we do that trip tomorrow?” Louis asked, hiding a yawn behind his hand.  
Harry paused in his chewing and looked at him, eyebrows raised. He swallowed and nodded.  
“Okay. When do you want to go?”  
Louis scratched his chin, Harry watching him.  
“When we wake up? It’s like ten minutes away at best, so,” Louis shrugged.  
“Alright,” Harry nodded again and looked at his plate. He put it away, turning to the TV. “I guess I’ll leave the day after tomorrow then? Don’t want to bother you any longer than necessary.”  
“Oh,” Louis said, looking at him again. Harry met his eyes, biting on his cheek. “You could stay longer, if you want to. We could at least have a night out or something. There is a bar in the village I haven’t shown you yet.”  
“Yeah? You wouldn’t mind?” Harry asked and Louis smiled.  
“Of course not, H. I know it’s- what we have now is weird,” he said, blushing a bit. “But I still like being around you, you know.”  
“Thanks. And I do, too. Thank you.”  
Louis chuckled and Harry smiled small at him.  
“I haven’t done anything for you, no need to thank me. So tomorrow it’s Laugharne and then we go out, yeah?”  
“Yep.”

* * *  
Louis went downstairs next morning in a surprisingly quiet house. He even thought Harry had left for a second. He knocked lightly on the wall of the living room and called softly:  
“Harold? You up?”  
The doors stood open from the night before, but Harry didn’t answer. Louis poked his head inside and saw only Harry’s feet sticking out from behind the sofa’s back. Louis chuckled quietly and took a few steps forward. When he was close to the sofa he paused. Harry was sleeping, soft breaths escaping his mouth with cute little sounds. He was lying on his back, one hand behind his head, the other holding the covers on his chest. He was shirtless, his lips parted and slightly swollen — he always got puffy in the morning, Louis remembered. He loved kissing Harry’s puffy lips in the mornings.  
Louis bit his lip and shook off the memories. He bent down to wake Harry up, but froze again. He noticed Harry’s notebook on the table and his heart skipped a beat. There was a sketch of Louis wrapped up in blankets on the opened page; it was probably from the night before. The Louis in the room had no idea what to make of it. He went back to when he was painting the fence a few weeks ago and Harry refused to show him his sketches in the notebook. Was that why?  
Louis straightened up and left the room without giving himself time to think about what he saw. That was one disturbing thought, alright?  
He made sure he was as loud as he could be when he was preparing tea in the kitchen, and sure enough Harry entered the room a few minutes later, dressed in sweatpants and a tee and rubbing at his puffy eyes.  
“Good morning,” he said in a groggy voice and Louis wondered if he had hid the notebook.  
“Morning. Tea?” Louis asked, handing him the cup.  
“Thanks,” Harry mumbled, looking like it was a struggle to keep his eyes open. “Are we leaving now?”  
“Whenever you’re ready,” Louis shrugged, sipping at his tea. He was leaning against the counter and watched Harry drop into the kitchen chair heavily.  
“Why are we up so early?” Harry asked, frowning against the light from the window.  
“Early? It’s ten past nine. I was surprised you weren’t up and on a jog already.”  
“First of all,” Harry said, his voice more smooth now. He took a sip and continued, pointy finger raised. “The doctors said to not jog for a while, just in case. And second, I couldn’t fall asleep till like one or two, so.”  
“Well, all I know is that I owe you a trip and it is today,” Louis said and smiled, thoughts boiling at the back of his head. Was Harry drawing all night? Or just looking through the things he had drawn before? Why was he sketching Louis?  
“Yeah, yeah. You are a stubborn little swine, I know,” Harry said, shaking his head with his eyes closed. Louis smiled at him past the confusion.  
“I think it goes ‘a sexy little swine’, if I remember correctly,” Louis said, sending a biscuit in his mouth. Harry looked up and pointed a finger at him, squinting his eyes.  
“I should tell him to change the lyrics, then.”  
“There is no fucking way you know Alex Turner too,” Louis said, lowering his teacup. Harry smiled, suddenly, his eyes only puffed slits now.  
“No, I don’t. But your face was worth it.”  
“Fuck off,” Louis said, finishing his tea. He put the empty cup into the sink. “Alright then, I’m off to shower. Let’s leave in twenty or something, okay?”  
“Sure,” Harry said and rubbed at his eyes again.

“Lou!” Harry called from downstairs some time later.  
“Yeah?” Louis called back, going down the stairs fully dressed. He was drying his hair on the towel as he went.   
“Do you have the signs for Cliff with you?” Harry asked, stepping aside when Louis left the stairs. He finally looked awake.  
“I wanted to print them in the town, I’m sure there is a library there or something.”  
“Alright. You ready to go?” Harry asked, nodding towards the doors. Louis straightened up, throwing the towel over the handrail.  
“How much a disaster does my hair look like?” he asked and Harry smiled, taking a moment to assess the situation.   
“Do you want it blunt and honest?” he asked, frowning suddenly. Louis swallowed, feeling hopeless.  
“Come on,” he said with a sigh and Harry cracked a smile so sudden it was disturbing.  
“You look cute,” he said and took the towel right after it, heading for the small bathroom. Louis watched him go, feeling his cheeks on fire. Alright, then.  
He saw Harry throw the towel into the laundry basket and emerge back into the hall.  
“Erm, okay. Let’s go,” Louis said, not looking at Harry.   
He thought he could feel the burning gaze on the back of his neck as he was leaving the house. Harry locked the doors and they got into the car in silence, Louis taking the passenger seat once again. Harry stopped by his door, frowning.  
“You’ll let me drive again?” he asked, as if he hadn’t just called Louis cute out of the fucking blue. Louis shrugged. He could be nonchalant. He was the king of nonchalant.  
“You were decent the last time. Come on.”  
“Wow,” Harry said and closed the doors before going around the car and plopping into the passenger seat. “You know where to go, right?” he said, driving out onto the country road. He turned to look out the rearview mirror, his jawline sticking out more than was particularly necessary, in Louis’ opinion. A sliver of light was stretching up his neck and peppering the short curling strands on his neck. Louis looked away and bit his cheek.   
He felt Harry frown at him.  
“What?” he asked, glancing at him.  
“I asked if you know the way,” Harry said, now entering the village. Oh. Of course. You were that pathetic, Tomlinson. Erm-  
“Sure. I’m not that hopeless, you know. And there are road signs, it’s not that hard, assuming you can read.”  
Harry smiled at the road.  
“Okay.”  
Louis bit his nails, suddenly feeling guilty. He had sort of forgotten about his dog, about his best bud. Did it mean he was a bad friend? A bad dog-owner? Is there such a thing as a bad dog-owner?  
Could he leave for London without Clifford? Probably. Louis bit his knuckle harder. There was hardly any chance Cliff would return by now; it’s been more than a month by this point. There was probably no sense in even putting up the signs, but Louis felt he could at least do that much. With Harry gone, he would need someone to share the house with. Or his London place for that matter.  
He thought of how Harry’s leaving would go. Maybe Louis could leave with him? Then he wouldn’t have to put up with being alone in the house. But then he imagined Clifford running around the two buildings, looking for Louis when he wasn’t there. Louis felt a pang of pain at the thought of his dog. He couldn’t leave without him, no. Not unless he was dead sure.  
“Lou?” Harry said softly and Louis blinked at him.  
“Yes?” he asked, distracted, trying to focus on Harry.  
“Do you know where the library is?”  
“Oh,” Louis said, looking around. They were in Laugharne already. It was raining slightly. He could see white and brown squarish houses, neatly stuck next to each other. The town had its charm, especially in the rain. “Yeah, erm, I think it’s straight and then the first one to the right.”  
“Aha,” Harry said and drove the way Louis showed. They parked by the building and got out, though stopping a few feet away.  
“Shite,” Harry muttered, seeing the PERMANENTLY CLOSED sign. “I think there was a bookshop opposite that hotel as we drove? You reckon they could help us?”  
“Yeah, let’s try,” Louis said, feeling disheartened. What a great start to their journey.  
“Hey, Lou,” Harry said, catching his wrist in cold fingers when they were in the car again. Louis looked at the place of contact and then back at Harry. Harry squeezed gently and let go. “Don’t worry, we’ll put up the signs, okay? And you’ll see Cliff in no time, I promise.”  
“How can you know?” Louis said, feeling more awful by the second. He forgot about his fucking best mate on this land for a whole month and didn’t even bother looking for him. He was a horrible, horrible person.  
“We don’t have any other choice, do we?” Harry said, looking out of the window now. They sat in silence for a moment, when Louis said:  
“Sorry. It’s not your fault, really, I shouldn’t have been rude.”  
“You weren’t rude,” Harry said, looking at him again.  
“I’m sorry anyway.”  
“No offence taken,” Harry said and smiled. “So, the bookshop?”  
They drove to the place where a small hotel was situated and tried the bookshop first, but the man there apologised and said he couldn’t help. The hotel was much more successful though. The portly woman behind the counter looked kind and printed out their signs for them.  
“Thank you so much,” Harry said, shaking her hand, while Louis was hiding the papers in his rucksack to protect them from the rain outside.  
“Oh, it’s nothing, sweetheart. Good luck with your dog,” the woman said.  
“Thank you,” Louis said and shook her hand, too. “Have a nice day,” he said, as he and Harry were leaving.  
“Take care,” she waved them off.   
Louis and Harry both pulled their hoods up when they got out.  
“You reckon we could start with this one?” Louis said, pointing at a post nearby with a few notes on it. Harry nodded and they set out to work.   
By the time they finished, Louis thought he could see his address and number from every place he looked at.  
“You think that should work?” he asked Harry as they were stood under a rooftop of a shop’s porch.  
“That’s out best bet. I could always post something on Twitter for you?”  
“No. That would cause lots of controversy,” Louis said, blushing and looking at his feet. He noticed Harry shrug by his side.  
“Alright.”  
A strong gust of wind blew at them, and Louis raised his shoulders and turned to face Harry completely, trying to protect himself from the rain and wind. Harry was squinting at him, but smiling.  
“How about we go into the car and have a snack?” he said loudly over the wind.  
“You have snacks?” Louis said, straightening up and forgetting about the wind for a moment. Another gust made him curl in on himself again.   
Harry just took him by the forearm and dragged him to the car, which, thankfully, wasn’t that far away. Louis exhaled with relief when they were inside and Harry turned on the heating.  
“Do you reckon the weather will get better?” Louis said, closing his eyes for a moment.  
“We should check. I think we should have checked yesterday, actually,” Harry said, taking his bag from the back seat. Louis watched him rummage through it and take out two sandwiches and a metal bottle.  
“Tell me there is tea in it?” Louis said, taking the warm bottle.  
“Yep,” Harry said, handing him one sandwich.  
“You are the best, Harold,” Louis said and Harry chuckled.  
“Another compliment for me.”  
“You do sometimes deserve them,” Louis said, taking a sip of the tea and handing the bottle to Harry. Harry took a gulp, his adam apple bopping, and wiped his mouth with his hand.  
“Not everything is lost on me, then?”  
“Maybe,” Louis shrugged.  
“Yeah, the weather,” Harry said, raising his index finger and opening his phone, his sandwich in his lap.   
“I swear it’s even more unstable than in London. I just gave up on those forecasts in my first year. You can never trust them,” Louis said and bit into his sandwich.  
“How do people paint their fences then?” Harry asked with a smile, still looking at the screen. Louis rolled his eyes, his mouth full.  
“Pi’ o’’.”  
“Will do. It says it is sunny all day,” Harry said and frowned at the street outside the car. It was still drizzling and very gray. “Today is May the twelfth, isn’t it?”  
“See,” Louis said after swallowing his mouthful. “I shouldn’t even have bothered washing my hair today,” he said, running a hand through the tangles. Harry smiled at him but said nothing, and Louis felt that warmth in his tummy again. He took a sip from the bottle and looked outside. Harry pointed at something, saying:  
“There is a patch of blue over there. I think it should be sunny soon.”  
“You think the signs about Cliffy will survive today?”  
“Yeah. Some of them are on the bus stops, so they’ll be protected from the rain.”  
Louis sighed, eyeing his half-eaten sandwich.  
“There is a thingy called ‘Dylan Thomas Birthday Walk’ or something; it takes you to the most famous places here, we could go for it? But if I remember correctly, we should park by the castle first,” he said, googling the walk simultaneously. “Yeah, here it is. What do you reckon?” he said and looked at Harry. The latter nodded, swallowing the last of his food.  
“Sure. Just tell me where to drive,” Harry said and a ray of sunlight shone right into his face. He squinted, smiling again. “Here comes the sun.”  
They got out by the castle a few minutes later, only a few cars in the parking lot. The sky was almost clear by now, but it was still windy; Louis pulled the sleeves of his hoodie down past his fingertips, looking around at the vast remnants of the old castle, surrounded by the green fields. Harry stood close by his side, both watching the building silently for a moment.  
“That looks like history,” Louis said quietly and blushed, not really knowing why.  
“Makes me feel tiny,” Harry said just as quietly and sounded just as awed. Louis glanced at him squinting against the sun to look at the castle.   
“Wanna go?” he said, nodding at the narrow path not far away from the building.   
“Let’s go,” Harry nodded and they crossed the small bridge, getting onto the path. Harry walked slowly, and Louis matched his pace.  
“It looks a bit ‘Lord of the Ring’-like, you know what I mean?” Louis said, taking in the green scenery.  
“I guess,” Harry said and smiled at him. “Maybe they filmed it somewhere in Wales?”  
“I dunno, actually,” Louis said and frowned. They’ve passed the castle now, walking towards stone steps, visible in the distance. “I wonder if people get used to it all when they live here.”  
“Well, remember when we just moved to London. It felt enormous at first, didn’t it?”  
“London is quite big,” Louis teased, trying his best; Harry shoved him in the shoulder and they both chuckled. “Well, yes, I guess you are right. But like, I still enjoy the sea, though I’ve lived there for three years.”  
“Maybe it’s a bit different with nature. And the sea is different every day, but that castle stays the same.”  
“True,” Louis said as they approached the stone steps. “After you,” he said, gesturing for Harry to go first. He made sure to look at the steps when he followed him, because Harry Styles from the back was one attractive view.  
“Is that the writing shed?” Harry asked, pointing at the small gray-ish shed down their path. It had a door and a small rectangular window.  
“I think so. There is a sign over there,” Louis said, pointing at a small stand right in front of the house. They came closer. “Yeah. It says he wrote in there.”  
“I can understand why,” Harry said, looking around. They could see the water reflecting the sun from the point on the cliff top. What a perfect place to be creative, Louis thought. The nature here was absolutely stunning. He turned towards the shed again and saw Harry peeking inside through the window.  
“What’s there?” Louis asked, taking a step forward. Harry stepped aside to let him see. Louis leant close, his nose almost pressed against the glass, his hands around his eyes to help against the sun. He could see a white interior with a few photographs and a writing table by the opposite wall.   
“Lovely, isn’t it?” Harry asked from behind, somewhere very close. Louis ignored the goosebumps down his back. He stepped away from the building and smiled at Harry.   
“Yeah. Would be nicer if it wasn’t that sunny.”  
“You are such a geezer,” Harry chuckled, starting to walk again.  
“I am not a geezer,” Louis said and shoved his shoulder again.  
“You were whining about the rain and wind, now you don’t like the sun.”   
“Well, the sun is too bright, the rain is too wet,” Louis said, frowning; he was one second away from pouting at that point.  
“The rain is too wet?”  
“Piss off, Harold,” Louis said, walking around Harry and further up towards the white boathouse.  
“Are you seriously offended?” Harry asked, reaching him in no time. Fuck these long legs, honestly. Louis squinted at him.  
“And what if I am? What are you going to do about it?”  
Harry smiled and scrunched his nose in that lovely way of his. Louis hated how his heart melted at once. He did his best to keep his expression hard.  
“You are teasing, aren’t you?” Harry said.  
“You never know,” Louis said and shrugged, stopping by the house. “They say that’s one of the most famous places in here,” Louis said then.  
“That’s where Dylan Thomas lived?” Harry asked.  
“Yeah. But not for long, only a few years; he died quite young if I’m not mistaken. I’ve read about him when I just moved here.”  
“I found this in the house the other day,” Harry said, pulling out a poetry book. Louis nodded, feeling uneasy about one particular poem in it; he didn’t want to think about it now.  
“Have you read any of his poetry?” Louis asked, now leading the way into the nearby wood that he knew would take them back to the town.  
“Some of it.”  
“He wrote a lot in here, actually. Did you know that?” Louis said, glancing over his shoulder at Harry, who was looking through the pages. “Harry, be careful,” he said. Harry stopped, frowning at him. “I just don’t want you to fall again, okay?” Louis said then, almost by the shadowy wood.  
“Okay, okay. Do you know anything specific that’s been written in here?”  
“What? You want to read it?” Louis smiled.  
“Yeah,” Harry said as they emerged into the thick trees. Everything around them was endless green now.  
“Alright. Let’s try ‘Poem In October’ then.”  
“Poem In October,” Harry muttered, flipping through the pages. Louis slowed down a bit, so they could walk side by side. Harry found the page and coughed a bit. Louis smiled, looking around at the beautiful, beautiful nature.  
“It was my thirtieth year to heaven,” Harry started, voice deep and just perfect for poetry.   
The sun kept getting through the thick branches, warm on Louis’ skin. He felt at peace there, walking through that fantasy-forest and listening to Harry’s voice reciting the poem he read once back on his porch. They saw a few boat houses as they went, Louis constantly glancing at Harry to make sure he wouldn’t fall. He could smell the wet grass and wood, birds were singing somewhere high above them, and Harry’s voice mingled with the rustling of the trees.   
“O may my heart's truth  
Still be sung  
On this high hill in a year's turning,” Harry finished when they were long out of the wood, and closed the book. They sat down on one of the benches, silent, and Louis couldn’t keep the smile off his face. They could see a path towards the old church, another one of the main sights in the town, along with the graveyard where the poet was buried. It was peaceful there. Very quiet and very sunny.  
“Kind of feels like October today, eh?” Harry asked after a while, putting his elbows on his knees. Louis looked at him for a long moment, all soft lines and loveliness, even in a hoodie. Harry looked like he belonged to both a victorian painting and a busy city, and Louis couldn’t quite wrap his head around the fact, even after all these years of trying. Harry Styles was an open book and a mystery for him all at the same time. “Lou?” Harry asked, looking at him.  
“Yeah, but that’s just Wales. And we are close to the sea.”  
“I want to come here on my thirtieth,” Harry said then. “Can I stay in your house too?” he added with a sly smile. Louis chuckled, shaking his head.  
“Any time, mate. Any time.”  
There was a moment when they just looked at each other, a shared promise between them. Another meeting, not a goodbye. But then Louis blinked and the spell was broken. Harry turned to look at the church, pointing at the graveyard opposite.   
“Is that where his grave is?”   
“Yep,” Louis said and stood up, Harry following. “Let’s go.”  
They approached the St. Martin’s Church, a gothic-style beauty bathed in sunlight. It was surrounded by trees and bushes, making it look even more like a fortress. Louis stepped closer and touched the stone, cold under his fingers. He squinted against the sun and wind when he looked up to take the whole thing in, but he really couldn’t. It felt and looked absolutely massive.  
“Is this one ‘brown as owls’?” Louis asked quietly. He felt like if he spoke loudly the spirit of the old place would vanish.  
“No, brown was the castle,” Harry said from behind him. Louis turned to look at him and saw Harry standing a few feet away, hand above his eyes to shelter them against the sun. He had taken off his hoodie, which now was tied around his hips, leaving him in his blue jeans he stained on the very first day, and a ‘Rolling Stones’ t-shirt, that looked just as ancient as the church.   
“Oh, look,” Louis said, stepping around Harry and pointing at a white cross. “This is it,” he said and felt Harry approach him. They stood side by side in front of Dylan Thomas’ grave with a white cross on it.  
“I feel like we need a wand,” Harry said quietly and it took a moment for Louis to catch up.  
“To conjure up flowers? Like Hermione did in that last film?”   
“I still can’t believe you never read the books,” Harry said as he shook his head.  
“I was busy, had people to do- Doesn’t matter,” Louis finished, scratching his nose. That was embarrassing, that one was.  
“If I remember correctly I was the first person you did?”  
“Harry,” Louis whined, looking at the graveyard. “This is not the place for these jokes, okay?”  
“Okay,” Harry said simply and after a moment he bumped their shoulders. “Sorry.”  
“It’s alright,” Louis said, feeling the sun hot in his hair. “It’s hot in here,” he said, pulling his hoodie off his chest to get some air moving.  
“Why not take it off?” Harry said, turning to him. They started walking to the cobbled path that would take them back to the city.  
“I have nothing underneath,” Louis said, pulling out a strand of grass.  
“Oh,” Harry said, speechless for a moment. Louis glanced at him and found Harry looking at him with raised eyebrows. Louis raised his, too. “Sorry,” Harry said, blinking. “Well, when we get into those woods, it will be colder, I think,” he said, nodding at the milkwood far ahead.  
“Come on, then. I’m boiling,” Louis said, walking faster; Harry caught up to him after a second.  
“Hey Lou?”  
“Yeah?”  
“Did you ever get recognised around here?” Harry asked and Louis looked away from the cobbles under his feet at him.  
“No. Why? Afraid to get papped with me?” Louis said with a small smile.  
“Last time I checked it was you who didn’t want the connection to me to go public,” Harry said with a frown. He was walking with his hands behind his back, and was looking at his feet.  
“Don’t say it like that. And you know perfectly well why I don’t want it,” Louis said, looking at Harry. He caught himself thinking that he wanted to take a picture of him. Just to have a lovely Harry in the sunlight, tucked away somewhere. He bit his cheek.  
“Yeah, it’s okay. I get it. Fans would go insane and all that,” Harry said, glancing at him. Louis was really grateful for Harry’s sunglasses; those green eyes in the sun were lethal for Louis’ sanity.  
“Exactly.”  
“But how did you manage to not get recognised?” Harry said, frowning again. Louis glanced at the wood, now much closer, and back at Harry. He shrugged.  
“I think it’s because youngsters don’t really live around here and older generation doesn’t really care. Like, maybe they did recognise me, but they are not fans, and they don’t have social media, so,” Louis said and shrugged again. “And I never went online on my accounts lately, so there is a chance I just don’t know.”  
“I just thought someone was bound to see you at some point.”  
“You sound like a maniac,” Louis said with a snort, but Harry didn’t laugh. Louis stopped a few feet away from the wood and its shadows. “Harold?”  
“Mmm?” Harry looked at him, trying to school his face into innocence. “What is it?” he asked. Louis swallowed.   
“Nothing,” he said. “Let’s get into the shadows?” he said and nodded at the trees. Harry led the way in.  
The forest was indeed colder, and very green. That’s all Louis could come up with, really, because his thoughts kept running back to Harry. Was he hoping to see a mention of Louis to know where he was? But this is ridiculous. This is something a twelve-year old would do to know where their crush is, isn’t it?   
Louis frowned at the ground as he walked, Harry right by his side. He felt sudden warmth on his heart at the thought of Harry actually wanting to see him; but then he felt fear clasping his insides. He couldn’t explain it, and he shouldn’t get his hopes up anyway, because even if Harry did do it (which is ridiculous), he was probably over his feelings for Louis by now. That night at the sea, he said he used to love Louis; he said nothing about the present. So yes. Get it out of your head, Tomlinson, and keep yourself together.  
He stumbled over a thick tree root and Harry caught him by the forearm at once. Louis snapped back to reality at the feeling of the warm fingers on his exposed arm. Harry withdrew his hand when Louis stood alright again.  
“And who is the clumsy one now?” Harry said through a smile, and Louis felt lighter at once. What was he worrying about before?  
“One time isn’t everything. You trip all the time,” Louis teased, walking ahead again.  
“Yeah, yeah. Excuses.”  
“What do you mean ‘excuses’? You tripped on every other concert,” Louis said, looking at Harry. His figure looked dark against the sunlight that made it though the branches, a sun halo around his head. Louis could see water through the trees now.  
“I just happened to be filmed more,” Harry said with a shrug, as if it settled the matter. “You and Liam fell all the time.”  
“Well, that was because of the water fights.”  
“Excuses,” Harry said with another shrug and Louis rolled his eyes.  
“Piss off, Harold.”  
They walked in silence for a bit, Louis taking in the peace that that place brought. It smelled fresh, of trees and wet grass. Harry was looking up.  
“Imagine living here,” he said, lowering his head. “To be able to walk here any time you want.”  
“Grew tired of the city?” Louis said and smiled softly at Harry.  
“Do you think you’ll miss it? When you move back to London?”  
“Well, I hope to visit every few months. I don’t want to be stuck in the city for long, I hate it.”  
“And you didn’t miss it one bit?”  
“I think I miss friends and family, not the place, really,” Louis said wit another shrug. “Although there are some spots I want to go to when I come back.”  
“Want to show Cliff around?” Harry smiled.  
“Of course. The old fella would love it.”  
“I hope I see him one day.”  
“Then you will. I’ll let you know once I’m settled, we could meet up. Pull Nialler along, too.”  
Harry nothing short of beamed at him at these words.  
“Excellent,” he said then, and Louis was one second away from blushing. He looked away, because Harry was dazzling.  
They came to a stop at a small clearing, where the trees along the shore opened up and gave them a view of the town on the other shore. They could see the castle and the buildings, all getting lost in the trees, not yet quite green. They took a moment to just look and be there.  
When they left the wood and got onto the main road to walk back to the car, the wind grew stronger and stronger, making the sun disappear behind the clouds again. By the time they made it to the car, all sky was gray.  
“Reckon we should go home?” Harry asked once they were in the car.  
“Yeah, I don’t like that wind. The sooner we are home the better,” Louis said and Harry started the car.  
“Do you think it’ll rain?” Harry asked when they left the parking lot behind. A few drops hit the car and Louis snorted.  
“Looks like it, yeah,” he said, looking out onto the fields of green, all under the dark skies now. “I just hope it’s nothing major.”  
It was, though. In the twenty slow minutes it took them to reach the house, the rain was so thick it was hard to see. They had to even drive more slowly, afraid to hit a car. When Harry stopped the car, they looked at each other.  
“Shall we run in or wait in here?” Harry asked loudly, trying to speak over the rain. He pulled his hoodie back on.  
“Let’s go,” Louis said, pulling out his keychain. He put his hand on the door “One, two, three,” he said and they both got outside. Louis ran towards the house, Harry hot on his heels, both soaking wet. They got onto the porch and looked at each other. Harry’s hood was flat against his head, making him look like he just emerged from a pool, having had a swim.   
“If I look just as bad as you do, I apologise,” Louis said, finding the right key on the keychain. Harry shoved him in the shoulder gently, and Louis chuckled. He swung the doors open, stepping aside to let Harry in. When they were both inside and shoeless, their socks wet, Louis said: “How about some tea and biscuits?”  
“I want to take a shower,” Harry said, hugging himself. He was trembling slightly.  
“Go on, then,” Louis said and gestured at the second floor. “I’ll make the tea.”  
“Thank you,” Harry said and left for the stairs almost at once.  
Louis took a towel from the small bathroom and dried his hair before putting the kettle on. He changed into dry clothes in his room and by the time the water was boiling, he was already in the kitchen, eager for some warmth. He threw the tea bags in and poured the water when Harry entered the room, smelling of Louis’ shower gel.  
“Lou, I’m sorry I didn’t ask it earlier,” Harry said when Louis handed him his cup. “Do you want me to move back to the guest house? I swear I just remembered it,” Harry said, taking the cup with both hands. His skin was rosy and he looked warm.  
“Forget it, Harry. You have what? One day left? There is no sense in it, and I don’t mind it. And you cook, so,” Louis said with a shrug, leading the way into the living room.  
“Thanks.”  
“It’s nothing, love, really,” Louis said, plopping down onto the sofa and turning on the telly. “Can you give me that blanket?” Louis said, pointing at a red wooled one, which lay over the armrest.  
“Here you go.”  
“Thanks. Are you still cold?” Louis asked, wrapping himself in the blanket, his cup balancing dangerously on his armrest. He took it in both hands again.  
“I’m fine,” Harry said, throwing another blanket over his own lap. He looked cosy in gray sweats and his sweater. “Do you want another one?” he asked, holding up a third blanket. Louis shook his head and Harry dropped it. “How many of those do you have?” he asked, amused.   
“A lot,” Louis said with a shrug.


	7. 7

Louis was sitting on the shore, two completely empty houses behind him, feeling just as empty himself. Harry had left hours ago, and all the time since was spent outside, just sitting there, watching. Thoughts kept buzzing in his head like little bees, at times making him want to have no thoughts at all, at times leaving him for so long he wanted them back just to not face the empty house. He was yet to go inside.  
They spent the last night in the pub, with quiet music from a local musician, and Charly served them booze. It was alright — fun, even. They managed to push away Harry’s departure as much as possible, or rather the thoughts of it. They drank well into the night and Louis even thought that would be one of those good days; days when memories didn’t chase him.  
But then, when they were walking home some time after midnight, with stars and the moon high above them, Harry spoke up. Louis’ wasted brain sobered up almost at once on the first words:  
“Was it painful for you when we broke up?” Harry asked, words faster than usual. Louis stopped walking and looked at him. They were standing on the short road, halfway between the village and the houses. Harry was looking at the ground, swaying slightly on the spot. Other than that, he looked just as sober as Louis felt right now.  
“Harry,” Louis said, reaching out and squeezing Harry’s shoulder. He looked up at Louis, the corners of his mouth drooping down involuntarily. He had tears in his eyes, he really did, and Louis felt a lump in his throat form faster than ever. He swallowed past it and almost suffocated at the effort. “It was,” Louis squeezed out then; anything, anything to get those tears off Harry’s face. Harry nodded at that and looked at the sea.  
“Walk with me?” he asked, already making a step towards the water. Louis followed, slowly. Harry took his hand and Louis let him. He probably shouldn’t have done.  
They sat down onto the sand, which was still cold. Louis shivered slightly, fidgetting to get more comfortable, and Harry hugged him, simple as that. They were sitting a few feet away from where the waves reached the shore, Harry hugging Louis tightly. Louis could feel Harry nose his hair from where his head was right behind Louis’. And again, Louis should have objected, but he didn’t. Instead, he just closed his eyes and drew his knees closer to his chest, pressing to Harry.   
“I was so hurt,” he whispered into Louis’ hair, leaving a small kiss there. Louis felt his heart clench with sharp pain, goosebumps run down his back. “And I felt guilty for what I’d said to you. And I’m sorry for that. I’m really, really sorry, Lou. I didn’t ever want to hurt you,” he said and hugged Louis closer, resting his cheek against Louis’ hair.  
“I’m sorry too,” Louis said, feeling tears run down his face. He sniffed quietly and Harry squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. “I didn’t think through what I’ve told you, I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”  
Harry didn’t answer; instead, he left another kiss in Louis’ hair, and Louis felt warmth spread through him. He knew they wouldn’t talk about that at all after the night was over, so he tucked another sweet memory away, hoping that one day it’d make him feel better.  
“I think we were too young for it,” Louis said, stroking Harry’s wrist where his hand was resting on Louis’ chest. “You were what? Twenty one? That’s still a child.”  
He felt Harry’s chuckle warm in his hair, and smiled himself, albeit sadly.  
“Is twenty three a responsible adult already?”  
“Don’t you put all the blame on my old self, Harold.”  
“Never again,” Harry said from behind and something fluttered inside Louis. He didn’t say it though; he didn’t want to make things anymore complicated than they already were.  
“When are you leaving tomorrow?” Louis asked instead, looking at the starry sky.  
“Let’s not talk about this, okay?” Harry said quietly and Louis squeezed his wrist gently.  
“Of course. Didn’t mean to make you sad.”  
“I’m already sad.”  
“Me too,” Louis said, closing his eyes again. He relaxed as fully as he could in Harry’s arms.   
They sat in silence for a long while, soft rustling of the waves their only company. Louis thought of what they were right now, he and Harry, and what they could be. Friends? That would probably be the safest option. But wasn’t that whole month or more of Harry being around a proof that there was too much in the past for them to be friends? Should they break up again and not see each other? Was that their last goodbye then? For ever and ever?  
“Harry.”  
“Lou?”  
“Tell me we’ll see each other again.”  
Harry fidgeted behind him, sitting so he could see Louis’ eyes. His were very, very green.  
“What’s wrong?” he said with a small frown and Louis wanted to kiss it away.   
“Just- This is not the end, right?” Louis asked, struggling to keep up the eye contact. It was making him dizzy. “I’ll see you again, right?”  
“Of course. Of course, Lou. Any time, you just tell me and we’ll meet up, okay?” Harry said, still looking him in the eyes, and he sounded earnest. And Louis believed him. He nodded.  
“Thank you.”  
Harry gave him a wobbly smile and Louis smiled back, though it felt very foreign at that moment.  
“I think we’d better go home? We’ll have to get you ready for the flight and all.”  
Harry looked at him for a long moment and then nodded. They gave the sea one last look that night and stood up, the alcohol in Louis’ blood catching up on him once again. He didn’t give himself time to think before he put his hand on Harry’s hip, and immediately felt Harry’s hand on his shoulder. Happy days.  
They walked like that towards Louis’ house, ungluing themselves from each other to take their jackets off. Louis stood there, thinking of what he really had to lose that night. He had been way too vulnerable with Harry already, he might as well go all the way. So he put his arm back around Harry’s waist and heard him whisper:  
“Want to sleep together?”  
“Yes,” Louis said as they both walked into the living room and plopped down on the sofa, still in their clothes. Harry lay down on his side, opening his arms for Louis, and Louis went there, exhaling on relief. Home.

Louis woke up with Harry in his arms and sunshine on his face. Oh, and the headache, yes. Of course. As if he wasn’t miserable enough.  
He hid his face from the sun in Harry’s back, the fabric of the sweater soft on his skin.  
“Are you up?” he heard Harry’s croaky voice then.  
“I don’t wanna be,” Louis mumbled somewhere between Harry and the sofa. “It’s too bright and my head hurts.”  
He could feel Harry’s chuckle where his hands were on his tummy. Harry covered his hands with his and squeezed them gently.  
“Do you know what time it is?” he asked then, and Louis sighed. He emerged back into the sunlight, squinting his eyes and looking like a disgruntled hedgehog. He looked over his shoulder at the clock on the wall.  
“Ten,” he said, dropping his head back down and trying to get used to the light. It was fucking impossible.  
“I think we have to get up. I have to leave at noon to get to my plain on time,” Harry said, a tad of sadness from the night before present in his voice. The night before, right. Louis sighed, extracting his hands from under Harry’s. He sat up, fluffing up his hair; Harry sat beside him, looking just as bad as Louis felt, eyes puffy and skin pale red spots all over his cheeks.   
“You could do with a shower,” Louis said with a teasing smile, nudging Harry’s shoulder.  
“Only if you promise to brush your teeth in the meantime,” Harry said, cradling his head in his hands. “Do we have painkillers?”  
“Yeah, let’s go. They are in the kitchen,” Louis said and stood up, which turned out to be a mistake. He put a hand on the sofa’s back, scooping down a little, waiting for the world to settle into place. Harry straightened up with a quiet:  
“Shite.”  
They stood there, like two old men, and Louis snorted at the thought.  
“Think you won’t puke on your way to the kitchen?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at Harry, which helped him see the man better. Puffy eyes were evil, he’d tell you that much.  
“I hope so,” Harry mumbled, straightening up carefully. “Let’s not drink that much next time, okay?”  
“If we have Niall around, I can’t promise much,” Louis said, following Harry out of the living room and into the kitchen. Next time. There’d be a next time.  
“That will be the death of me. I’m too old for this shite,” Harry said, looking through the drawers for the medicine.  
“You are twenty five, Harold. That’s not old,” Louis said, doing the same. Where had he put it?..  
“Shut it,” Harry said, handing him a pill and throwing one into his mouth, too. He poured water into a cup and handed it to Louis then, who took it gladly. At least his mouth didn’t feel like paper now. He watched Harry gulp down his water and then wipe his mouth on the back of his hand.  
“Fuck,” he said, closing his eyes. His lips were wet and he looked sinful, Louis thought. Dark and sinful. Louis swallowed, taking a step back and saying,  
“Well, I’ll take the smaller bathroom, you have the one upstairs, yeah?”   
Harry opened his eyes and looked at Louis, who was almost in the doorway, walking backwards.  
“Thanks,” Harry said.

It took them quite a time to gather Harry’s things — Louis went over his house, and Harry went back to the guest house to gather his belongings. They ended up by Louis’ car at noon, Harry giving the house and the sea one last look. He looked sad all morning, and they hadn’t mentioned their conversation or the fact that they slept together at all; he looked even sadder now, something heavy in the corners of his eyes. It was frankly too much of a reaction to a random house by the sea, but Louis couldn’t bring himself to judge Harry for that. Harry sighed and turned to Louis, who smiled at him.  
“Ready?”  
“Let’s go,” Harry nodded and they got into the car, Louis in the driver’s seat.  
“So you are going to Ann’s?” Louis asked, pulling out of his yard. Harry nodded.  
“Yeah. Gemms should be coming over, too.”  
“Tell them I said hi,” Louis smiled at the thought of Ann and Gemma. He missed them. He wondered if Lottie still hung out with Harry’s sister.  
Harry looked at him.  
“You don’t mind if I tell them I’ve found you?”  
Louis frowned at the road. They were in the village now.   
“Why not tell them? I did miss them, you know,” Louis glanced at Harry, who was frowning at him.  
“Okay,” Harry mumbled. “Yeah, okay, I’ll tell them then.”  
There was a silence for a few minutes, and then Louis spoke:  
“So did you like it here? Helped your songwriting?”  
“Yeah,” Harry said, not sounding like he was present. He shook his head then, blinking. “Yeah, I did. I loved your place. Very peaceful.”  
Louis smiled proudly.  
“It really is.”  
They could see the town’s outline in the distance, and in a few minutes they would be inside the town itself. Louis bit his cheek.  
“I’m glad we met again, Harry. Really,” he said to the road and felt Harry’s eyes on him again.  
“Me too,” he said simply. “I hope it’s a new beginning,” he added quietly, as Louis entered the town. Two turns and they’d be at the station. He took the first one.  
“I hope so too,” he said then, parking the car. He looked at Harry and Harry looked back, biting at his cheek. He was nervous.  
“Let’s go,” Louis said, opening his door.   
They walked to the platform in silence, each carrying a bag. When they stopped a few feet away from the crowd, they turned to face each other. There was only a few minutes left.  
“A cuddle?” Louis said, spreading his arms wide and giving Harry a smile. Harry returned it, his eyes crinkly now. They weren’t crinkly three years ago.  
Harry felt warm and heavy against him, but it was a nice sort of heavy, Louis decided. One that anchored him, rather than pulled him down. He breathed in his own shampoo that Harry used that morning and felt his throat finally constrict with emotion which he successfully held off all morning.   
“Thanks for having me,” Harry said into his shoulder.  
“Thanks for coming over,” Louis said and finally let go. They looked at each other for a moment and Louis broke it first. He picked up Harry’s bag and handed it to him.  
“Thanks,” Harry muttered, hoisting his two bags on his shoulder and walking towards the train.  
“Good luck, H,” Louis said, clapping him on the shoulder; one last piece of contact before he left.  
“You too, Lou. Hear from you soon, yeah?”  
“Yeah,” Louis said, and felt like he was lying. “Of course,” he added and stepped back. Harry looked at him for one more second before turning away and disappearing into the sea of people on the train. He waved at him from one of the windows soon after, and Louis waved back, biting on his cheek. The lump in his throat grew only larger. He kept walking backwards, till he could see Harry no more, and then he turned and walked to the car, leaving the place as quickly as he could.  
When he stopped the car by his house, he couldn’t face entering it again. It was lunchtime, but Louis didn’t feel hungry. So he went straight to the shore and plopped down on the warm sand, grateful for the sun now. He sat there for hours and hours, thinking.  
It was sunny when they broke up too, but it was winter. Louis woke up to the sound of the doors closing that day and Harry calling:  
“Lou, I’m home!”  
Louis rolled over in bed, covering his head with the blanket. He had way too much alcohol for his brain’s liking last night. Fuck his friends and their booze tolerance. He heard the bedroom door creak open.  
“Are you still sleeping?” Harry asked and Louis could hear the fucker’s grinn.  
“Fuck off,” he mumbled, turning over, and heard Harry chuckle.   
“I love you too, you know,” he said then and Louis smiled small, despite the dull ache in his head. He pulled down the blanket a tiny bit, squinting against the sunlight, and peeked at Harry who was now sitting on the bed and smiling at him.  
“If you help me with the headache, I’ll love you too,” he said and Harry snorted, Louis scrunching his nose at the sharp sound. Harry kissed Louis’ hip through the blanket and stood up, the quick movement making Louis feel dizzy.  
“Be here in a moment.”  
Louis spent the time it took Harry to come back with a glass of water and a pill trying not to fall asleep. When Harry did come back, he managed to sit up, Harry fixing a pillow behind his back. Louis leant against it and swallowed the painkiller, placing the glass on the bedside table. Their bedroom was way too white for a hungover Louis.   
“Better?” Harry asked, hands on his hips and that permanent smile on his face. Louis smiled back, the painkillers starting to work.   
“Shower with me?” he asked, throwing away the covers and standing up. He didn’t remember undressing last night, but maybe it was Harry who did it, after Louis returned from the club at the wee hours of the morning. They had to talk about it, or else Louis would drink himself senseless more often than he would like.   
He hugged Harry and felt warm hands on his back.  
“I’ve already showered today,” he said with a sly smile and Louis pinched him on the back. “Alright, alright,” Harry said, raising his arms up. Louis took off his sweater and did a quick job of undoing his jeans’ button. When they were both naked, Louis hugged him again, pulling him into the shower, legs and arms tangling together as they walked slowly, Harry holding Louis tight.  
“What time is it?” Louis asked when they entered the bathroom.   
“Noon,” Harry said and kissed him on the temple. Louis smiled, searching blindly for the shower switch. When he heard the water streaming, he returned his hand to Harry’s curls. Harry was kissing a trail on his neck.  
“Meeting went alright?” Louis asked, feeling uneasy.  
“Yep,” Harry said, leaving a kiss on his collarbones and raising his head. He gently pushed Louis backwards, so that they both got under the water. “They’ve found me a drummer. I saw her play today, and she is brilliant,” Harry said with a smile, squeezing out some shampoo on his hands. Louis watched his fingers till Harry started massaging his scalp, making Louis almost moan with how good it felt. Did he really want to have that conversation right now?  
He put his hands on Harry’s waist, sucking a love bite just under his jawline, and for a moment Harry’s fingers paused in his hair. Louis smiled into his neck and left a kiss on top of the dark spot, before looking up at Harry.  
“Come on, let’s wash it off,” Harry said, gently pushing him under the water again. They took their time washing each other’s bodies and kissing under the waterstream, the uneasiness in Louis’ stomach growing stronger by each blissful second. He thought he would rather have a headache instead.  
When they were dressed Louis caught Harry’s hand in his and looked up into the green eyes. Now or never.  
“Harry, love, I want to talk to you.”  
“About music again? Lou, we’ve gone over it already,” Harry said, putting his hands on Louis’ waist and pulling him closer. “Please don’t start again,” he said quietly, sounding tired. Louis bit his cheek.  
“But Harry, I- Why don’t you agree with me? I really think it’s a perfect chance for us to settle down now. Have some time to ourselves, have a family,” Louis said, looking down at where their bodies were touching, which was everywhere. “Please,” he said, looking up at Harry. But Harry just shook his head, something in his expression hardening.  
“We are still young, Lou, we have plenty of time to settle down. And we should catch the moment to build solo careers, while people still remember us, you know? I think it would be stupid to settle down now,” Harry said and Louis felt cold at once. He dropped his hands and stepped back.  
“That’s what you think?” he said, folding his arms. “It is stupid to settle down with me, I see.”  
“You know it’s not what I meant.”  
“Then why not consider it?”  
“I told you a million times, Lou!” Harry said, flailing his arms around. Louis felt flame fuel his anger from the inside. “I want to be a successful musician, and I’m still only twenty one!”  
“Yeah, and you already have your songs memorised by millions of people. You are a successful musician, Harry,” Louis said, voice softening. Harry didn’t seem to notice it, though.  
“But who will remember us after a year? Or five years? It’s stupid to lose such a chance now that we can finally make music that’s personal,” Harry said, pressing a finger to his chest, his face full of raw emotion. “Lou, please, just think about it. We can have a family and even kids any time we’d like, but the audience is not gonna be as welcoming as it is today.”  
“Are you saying music is more important to you than I am?” Louis said, squinting at him. He was sinking his fingers into his arms so hard he was bound to have bruises.  
“That’s not what I said, Lou, please!” Harry exclaimed, sounding exasperated. “Why are you so stubborn?”  
“I’m not stubborn, Harry, I’m just fucking tired of you wanting to be Harry fucking Styles, and not thinking about us, okay?”  
“What do you mean? I always think about you!”   
They were shouting by this point, but Louis didn’t care. He had enough time to think it through.  
“Yes! But when was the last time we had a proper chat, when? Ever since that fucking hiatus, all you’ve been doing is building up a solo career!”  
“What’s wrong with that?”  
“There is no place for me there, Harry! All I hear from you is your songs, and your new team, and the album, the tour, whatever. I’m sick and tired of it,” Louis said, tangling his hands in his wet hair. Fuck was he fuming.   
“Are you saying you want me to quit music?”  
“I want us to have a break from all this shite, and just have some time to ourselves,” Louis said, quieter now, bravado leaving him. He kept his eyes closed, but knew Harry was watching him. He knew that feeling. “When we decided about taking a break, I thought I’d finally have some time with you, without having to give concerts every other night or write music or record. I thought we’d finally have time to do normal things, go on vacation, buy a house, visit our families. I just want to be with you, Harry.”  
“But I want to make music. I want to perform, I don’t want to settle down yet. I have all these ideas, they just won’t let me sleep at night. That’s my life, Lou.”  
Louis opened his eyes to see Harry stand there in the middle of the room, looking lost and small and fragile. Louis dropped his hands from his hair, sighing.  
“But of course,” he muttered and Harry frowned at him.  
“Of course what?” he asked quietly.  
“I don’t think I can do this anymore, to be honest. They’ll give you a stunt for your solo career; then they’ll give me one to make sure people don’t think we are dating. I don’t want to see it or do it, and I’m tired of this shite, Harry. I’m leaving.”  
“Leaving?”  
“Leaving.”  
“Don’t you fucking say that,” Harry said, looking angry again. “You can’t leave me, not now, not ever.”  
“Harry, I’m tired, and if you don’t want to be on my side, and I don’t want to be on yours, I don’t see a way out. So I’m leaving,” Louis said very quietly, getting his body to move. He walked to the closet and pulled out a bag, throwing random things in there.  
“Are you fucking serious?” Harry said from behind him, still in the same spot.  
“As you see,” Louis said without looking back. He felt hollow and betrayed, and he wanted to get out as soon as he could. “Turns out I’m not a constant in your life,” he added bitterly. “Good luck with your music,” he said, swinging the full bag onto his shoulder and leaving the room. Harry stood frozen in the same exact spot. Louis put on his jacket and shoes, seeing badly because of the tears. He left his home in silence, dialling Niall.  
Louis emerged back into reality, and saw the last rays of sunshine wash over the skies before the sun sank down completely. He felt on the verge of tears right now too. What a fucking fool he was.  
He felt something cold press into the back of his neck and startled, turning around. Clifford barked at him.  
“Boyo!” Louis said through a grin, forgetting about the pain for a second. “How did you?.. Who?.. Fuck I missed you, lad,” he said, hugging his dog. Cliff kept wiggling his tail around, pushing Louis on his back and lying on top of him. Louis sniffled, trying to stop his tears of both joy and sadness, and then he heard a woman speak:  
“I never saw him so happy.”  
Louis sat straight, still scratching Clifford behind the ears. A young blond woman was standing not far away from them, smiling, a dog leash in her hands.  
“I’m Alicia,” she said, taking a step forward and stretching out her hand. Louis scrambled to his feet and shook it.  
“Louis,” he said, nodding. Clifford ran around him, sniffing at the sand.  
“I brought your Clifford back. I’m sorry for taking him, but we saw that he got lost only today.”  
“Oh,” Louis said, glancing at his dog and back at Alicia. He probably looked like shit right now, but he felt a bit of emptiness in him warm up at the return of his friend. “Thank you. I hoped someone took care of him. Are you from Laugharne?”  
“Yes. We found Georgie, sorry, Cliff,” she smiled, and Clifford barked happily again, now running along the seashore, getting his paws as dirty as he possibly could, the bastard. Louis and Alicia both chuckled. “We found him about two months ago and took him in. But we left for our friend’s almost at once and took him with us. He missed you terribly. But he didn’t have any collar on him, so we didn’t think he was someone’s. Sorry about that.”  
“Oh, no, not at all. I’m very happy he is back, actually. Thank you for bringing him. Do you want anything? Money, maybe? He should have costed you a lot,” Louis smiled, tapping his pockets.  
“No, please, don’t,” Alicia said, stepping back and shaking her head. Cliff joined Louis, sufficiently covered in sand now. “We became friends, and you don’t pay for friends,” she said, smiling at Clifford. He barked and she smiled wider. “I’ll be off, then.”  
“Go say goodbye,” Louis said to his dog, pushing it forward. Clifford ran at Alicia and they hugged, her jacket stained.  
“It was fun to have you around, Georgie,” she said to him.   
“How about you come visit him? Or I could text you whenever I’m out in town with him? We are leaving soon, but when we are back, I’ll be happy to show Cliff to you.”  
“Really? That would be wonderful!” Alicia said, straightening up.  
“Then it’s settled,” Louis said, pulling out his phone. He typed her number in and pocketed it. “We’ll see you around, then. And thanks a lot for bringing him,” he said, bending down to scratch Clifford behind the ears again.


	8. 8

Louis woke up to something wet nudging his face and smiled through his slumber, remembering that Clifford was back.  
“Hi lad,” he said through a grin, eyes still closed, and scratched Cliff behind the ears. Clifford barked, spit peppering Louis’ face. Good morning.  
“Alright, alright, I’m up,” he said, finally opening his eyes only to see Clifford watching him and wagging his tail. “Shite, lad, I forgot you needed early walks,” he said, yawning and sat up. Cliff jumped off the bed and sniffled Louis clothes on the chair. “Yeah, yeah, they need a wash, I know it. Come on,” he said, standing up. A few minutes later he left for downstairs, Cliff running ahead and standing on his back legs, trying to open the door. Louis chuckled at him. He made sure he had his phone with him, before opening the doors and letting the dog out. Clifford nothing but flew towards the sea, running in the shallow waters before Louis had even made it out of the house.  
He shot a text to Niall, saying that Cliff was back, and hesitated before texting Harry.  
‘are you up?’ he sent out and checked the time. It was barely six.  
But his phone buzzed soon enough, and Louis checked it at once, heart fluttering. He stopped his slow walk towards the sea.  
‘Yep. Bright and early!:) Is everything alright?’  
‘ive got big news!’  
Louis waited for a reply, but instead his phone rang and Harry’s name appeared on the screen. He bit his lip painfully and brought his phone to his ear.  
“Good morning,” he said and he swore he could hear Harry’s smile from all over the country.  
“Good morning to you too. I thought you were a late sleeper?”  
“Clifford is back!” Louis said, unable to contain himself. He looked at Cliff now rolling in the wet sand.  
“Wha- wow! Congratulations! How did he get there?”  
“A girl brought him last night, she said they found him without a collar and thought he didn’t belong to anyone,” Louis said, leaning against his painted fence and watching the sea and Clifford with a smile. It felt surreal finally seeing him back.  
“Did they treat him well then?”  
“Yeah, he looked happy. They were sad to say goodbye, and I told her she could visit him anytime.”  
“So you don’t plan to leave yet?”   
“Yeah, I do actually. But I didn’t expect it to be so soon, you know. She gave me her number, so I’ll tell her when we are here again; I wanted to spend some time off here anyway.”  
“That’s really nice of you to do that.”  
“I mean, they fed the bastard for two months, and she didn’t want to take any money, so. Least I could do.”  
Harry chuckled on the other end.  
“How did you get home by the way? Everything alright?” Louis asked then.  
“Oh yeah. Mum and Gemma say hi too, by the way. And mum said she really wanted to see you when you have time.”  
Louis smiled, feeling a bit warmer, but then guilt caught him. How could she, of all people, forgive Louis?  
“Wasn’t she angry at me? For- for how I ended things?” he said, feeling small and inadequate. It had been such a good morning, fuck it.  
“Nope. You know how my family loves you, Lou. Honestly, don’t even think about it. Noone’s angry with you.”  
Louis bit his cheek, desperately wanting Harry’s words to be true, but his innards clenched guiltily nonetheless. He stared at the morning sky, already light and blue, the water moving lazily. Cliff ran up to him and Louis scratched his dirty fur.  
“Lou? You there?”  
“Yeah, sorry. Thanks for saying that. And I’ll try to come visit if I have the balls for it.”  
Harry chuckled again.  
“Just let me know whenever, then. Have you thought about when you are going back?”  
“Dunno,” Louis said, gesturing for Cliff to come with him and heading to the seashore. Clifford took it as a clue to jump straight into the water. “I need to fix the business things here and find a manager and stuff.”  
“I can ask my team if they know someone good?”  
“Oh,” Louis said, stopping for a moment. He could see a few fishermen in the distance. “Thank you, that would be really nice. But you don’t have to, really.”  
“It’s no trouble for me, don’t worry. And if you need any other help with anything, just ask, okay?”  
Louis smiled, pain hugging his insides almost welcomed. He shut his eyes tightly, running a hand down his face.  
“Thanks, bud. You are the best.”  
“That I know.”   
“The narcissist in you will never die, will it?”  
“What narcissist? There is no narcissist. I’m just fabulous as a whole, you know.”  
“Of course,” Louis sighed, stopping a foot away from the water. Cliff jumped on him, all wet and dirty. “Shite, lad! Don’t do it!” he said, stepping back, but still smiling. Fuck all the sand on this shore if it meant his best mate was back. Clifford followed him, still jumping; Louis ran to the house.  
“What happened?” Harry asked and oh, shit, they were still on.  
“Cliff jumped on me after being in the sea. I think he really wants me to do the laundry.”  
Harry snorted.  
“Good luck with the laundry then. I’ll go cook some breakfast, mum will be up soon.”  
“Yeah, I’ll go finally have my Choco-Pops,” Louis said, taking a towel from a hanger outside the door. It waited for so long. He looked at Clifford, waiting to be wiped clean.  
Harry chuckled.  
“I hope I’ll hear from you soon enough?”  
“Sure,” Louis said. “Have fun in London and all that.”  
“See you.”  
Louis hung up and crouched down to clean up the sandy mass of fur that was his dog.

* * *   
Louis opened the doors to his London flat with bated breath. Clifford stood still by his side — Louis’ mood probably have sipped into him, too. He took a deep breath and felt the smell of the place. It was clean and not even dusty — he hired a cleaning team before — and it felt just like seeing Harry those two months ago. It was old and it was new all at the same time. He gripped the strap of his beg tighter and stepped inside, tugging his suitcase along. Clifford stayed in the hallway. Louis looked at him, squeezing out a weak smile.  
“Come on, lad. Come in. This is our ho- our flat,” he finished. It wasn’t really his home. He had three in his life — his mum’s in Doncaster, his and Harry’s flat in London, which now stood probably empty, and his house by the sea. This was just a flat he owned. He barely spent time there when he was in London in the first place. His sisters usually hang out there when they were in London. His sisters, ha. Add that to the ugly list of things he escaped from.  
Clifford sniffed the threshold and stepped inside carefully. Louis dropped his bag and suitcase, crouching down. He spread his arms wide and Cliff trotted closer, nudging his palms.  
“There is a good boy,” Louis murmered. “Don’t be afraid, yeah? It’s going to be fun,” Louis said, the words feeling bitter. He felt out of place somehow, although he expected to finally feel grounded after coming back to the old life. Turned out the place didn’t matter. Now he felt even more miserable than those few days it took him to plan the trip to London.   
“Come on, I have your food here,” Louis muttered, scratching Cliff behind the ears with one hand and searching through his bag with the other. “Here we go,” he said, snatching the package. He took out his plate and served Clifford his food as best he could. He straightened up when he started eating.  
Louis looked around the hall; same white walls with high ceilings, same puff by the door, same framed vintage posters on the walls. Maybe it could feel like home with time?  
He left Clifford to his food and picked up his bag and suitcase again, trotting inside carefully. He felt like an intruder and couldn’t help the feeling. He found his bedroom with some difficulty, having forgotten which door contained what. He tried to ignore the panic and emptiness that spread through him; he felt alone and lost in time and space here. He opened the closet and his suitcase, making a quick job of placing his clothes in, not really caring about the order. He unpacked the bag hastily, and by the time he was done, Clifford found him.  
“Wanna get out? I’ll show you London, yeah?” Louis said, wanting to leave the flat behind as soon as possible. “You remember Nialler, yeah?” he said to Clifford, fishing out his phone. Clifford barked at the name and Louis smiled weakly at him. He dialled the number.  
“Hey Nialler.”  
“Watcha, Tommo. Are you back?”  
“Yeah. Wanna go out?”  
“Sure. Wanna go to a pub?”  
“I thought I’d bring Cliff though,” Louis said, glancing at his happy dog.  
“I know a place they allow dogs in.”  
Louis smiled.  
“Is it decent?”  
“Yeah, there are lots of dogs though. They have like a playground or summat.”  
“Alright. Let’s meet there in an hour?”  
“I’ll send you the address then. See you.”  
Louis pocketed the phone and crouched down again, looking Clifford in the eyes.  
“Are you tired, lad?”  
Clifford barked and Louis chuckled.  
“I’m knackered, but I can’t stay here. Dunno how you have so much energy,” he said, shaking his head. “Alright then, let’s go.”

“There he is!” Niall exclaimed, hopping off the bar stool and crushing Louis into a hug, when he barely made it over the threshold.   
“Good to see you too, mate,” Louis chuckled into his shoulder, closing his eyes for a moment. Home was people, not a place, he thought, feeling the familiar smell. Niall smelt of summer, corn and guitar, all of which made Louis feel strangely welcome into the crazy London.  
They let go, Niall keeping his hands on Louis shoulders and looking him up and down like a mother. Louis smiled, feeling Clifford cling to his right leg.  
“Do I look underfed?”   
“Nah, you’re alright, sweetheart,” Niall said, exaggerating the sentiment by his stupidly fond smile. Louis chortled, and Niall clapped him on the shoulder before bowing down to look at Clifford.  
“Who’s a good boy?” he cooed at him, and Clifford straightened up, pawing at Niall’s hand. Niall laughed and ruffled up his head. Cliff clung to him at once, closing his eyes and looking more like a cat than anything else, and Louis rolled his eyes.  
“You are such a softie, lad,” he muttered, looking around. It was a cozy place, with gray walls and framed paintings of dogs and horses. There weren’t many people there yet, which wasn’t particularly surprising for barely five in the afternoon. “Can I have Cliff by my side then?” Louis asked and watched Niall stand up straight again, Clifford a paddle of fur at his feet. It seemed the trip was catching up on him, too.  
“Sure, people do that, it’s no biggie,” Niall said. “Come on, there is a nice place,” he said, gesturing to a table at the back right under a big circular mirror. “You go, I’ll get the booze.”  
“Cheers.”  
Louis took the bench, Clifford climbing up as well and resting his head in his lap. Louis scratched him behind the ears lazily, and soon enough Niall joined them. He handed Louis his bear and put a plate of dog food in front of Clifford. He sniffed it lazily, but brought his head back to Louis’ lap.  
“Tired,” Louis said softly. “Sleep, boyo, I’ll wake you up later, yeah?”  
“And who is a softie now?” Niall said with a grin, sipping at his beer. Louis shrugged.  
“You live to my age, Nialler, you’ll be soft, too.”  
“Oh yeah, the dreadful twenty seven. So how has it been with Harry?” he asked, his gaze warm. Louis sighed, taking a gulp from his glass. He felt horrible both because of the mess that was his personal life at the moment and because of the trip.  
“I feel like shit,” he said then, looking at the golden drink in front of him.  
“Why? Did you two have a fight or summat?” Niall said, frowning.  
“Nah, we just- I dunno, Nialler, it’s strange. Like I can’t decide what I want from it and if I even want it, you know?”  
“Do you still like him?”  
“I think?” Louis said, raising an eyebrow. He exhaled, whole body deflating. He cradled his head in his hands, closing his eyes. “It’s all so fucked up. And, like, we talked about our break-up and stuff, and he even said Ann and Gemms want to see me, so I guess they forgave me, but, like-” Louis paused, gazing at the wall. He shook his head. “Ugh, Nialler, I just don’t fucking know. I’m mess, I’m sorry,” Louis said, eyes still closed. His head was pounding and having beer was probably not the best idea at the moment. So he leant back and took another sip.  
“Just give it time, Tommo. You are tired right now, it’s better if you give it a rest, I think,” Niall said, looking like a big warm hug. Louis could do with one, if he was honest.  
“Yeah, right. He asked to tell him when I’m in London though. Even offered to help find a manager and stuff.”  
“I can help you with it too, if you don’t want to face Harry yet?”  
Louis looked at Niall; he was ready to fucking cry.  
“Have I ever told you you are the best thing that happened to me, Nialler?”  
Niall barked out a laugh, Clifford shifting in Louis’ lap at the sound.  
“I highly doubt I’m the best, but thanks.”

Louis dragged his tired body back to his flat a few hours later, after he nearly dozed off on that bench. Clifford looked just like Louis felt — sleepy and heavy. He unlocked the doors and stumbled inside, dropping the keys onto the shelf under the mirror. He undressed as he went, Cliff right on his heels, and made it into bed smelling of sweat and booze and dog fur, but he couldn’t care if he tried. He felt Clifford land half on top of him, glad how the alcohol made him sleepy. He fell asleep to the thoughts of blissful nothingness.  
***  
He woke up feeling marginally better, the clock showing that it was ten already. Louis stretched in his bed and rolled over, Clifford raising his head sleepily.   
“Morning,” Louis croaked out and his dog yawned. “Shite, you stink. We have to clean your teeth or something,” Louis muttered, turning away. He blinked at the window, which wasn’t showing the sea or the clear blue sky. Instead, he saw smog and grey clouds, through which the sun was shining here and there. He took a moment to look around his big beige-coloured bedroom. He had forgotten how roomy his flat really was. The sea cottage was much more compact, but in turn it didn’t make him feel as small and lonely as he felt right now. He really hoped it was a matter of habit.  
Louis got out of bed, glancing at his phone. Should he call Harry today or can he wait some more?  
He really needed a cup of tea first and foremost. And to shop for food. But first, tea.  
He plopped down in the kitchen chair a few minutes later, TV muted in the background, a cup of steaming tea in hand. He pulled open his chat with Harry, which didn’t have a single text, and just stared at it. He closed it then, putting his phone screen down onto the table. He gripped the cup and looked around, trying to get to know the place he used to live in once again. Harry kissed him silly by that oven once, after Louis had just bought the place and they ‘tried out’ his bed. Harry, as predicted, cooked him pancakes the next morning, looking very pretty in… nothing. He kept hissing when the oil would bite him, but didn’t put on anything still, and Louis didn’t really mind. When the pancakes were stacked up on a plate, Harry turned off the oventop and came closer to where Louis was sat on that counter, right by the sink. Harry pushed his knees open gently, resting his hands on Louis’ waist.   
“Hi gorgeous,” he said through a grin then.  
“So cheesy,” Louis grinned back, nosing Harry’s cheek. “Kiss me?” he said against his lips.  
“I’ll think about it,” Harry said quietly, still grinning, their mouths a hair width apart.  
“What do you want me to do for that?” Louis said, kissing the corner of Harry’s mouth. His grin deepened.  
“Just be with me.”  
Louis’ bones turned to goo at those words and he giggled, leaving another kiss, now on the dimple.  
“Promise,” he said, squeezing Harry’s shoulders gently.  
Harry kissed him then, soft and tender, his lips velvety under Louis’. He remembered feeling a balloon swelling behind his ribs, ready to burst with warmth.   
Louis blinked back into the present, smiling, but feeling hollow inside, his balloon had bursted but no warmth was left. He missed those times, when despite every restriction, he got to be carefree behind the scenes. When he hadn’t fucked up yet.  
He dropped his cup, watching Clifford finish his food.   
“Wanna go for a walk?” he asked then, standing up. Clifford followed him out of the room.  
Soon they were in the park, Louis throwing a dog toy for Clifford to fetch; it was nice in there, with trees getting greener and greener and very few people walking past. Clifford seemed to be pleased with it as well, and Louis took pride at his younger self for choosing a place near a park, thought he didn’t have a dog back then.  
He threw the toy once again and took out his phone, finding Niall’s number this time.  
“You up?”  
“I’m in the studio already,” Niall said from the other end and yawned. Louis chuckled. “You feel alright, mate?”  
“Yeah, loads better. We are in the park with Cliff now.”  
“Say hi to him.”  
“Clifford!” Louis called at him. Clifford looked up from where he was sniffing the grass near the toy. “Niall says hi!”   
The dog barked and Louis nodded, as if he spoke his language. He probably did by that point, to be honest.  
“He says hi, too. Listen, Nialler, could you ask someone about a good manager and team overall?”  
“Sure, I’ll ask around and get back to you then, yeah?”  
“I’ll take you out next Friday,” Louis said through a smile.  
“I’ll get right to it, then,” Niall said and barked out a laugh. “See you, Tommo.”  
“Bye.”  
Louis pocketed his phone and felt someone looking at him. He turned around, frowning, and saw two girls a few feet away, looking at him nervously.  
“Hey,” Louis said and waved, feeling inadequate.  
“Hi,” the girl with curly blond hair said. “Sorry, are you Louis Tomlinson?”  
“Yeah,” Louis said, smiling. He turned around completely, hoping he had put on clean clothes today. The girls jumped in place, clapping.  
“Oh, it’s so nice to meet you!” the same girl said, her friend just beaming at him. She was probably the shy one, Louis thought.  
“Nice to meet you too,” Louis said, stepping closer. “Give the old man a hug?” he said, remembering how it used to be three years ago. The first girl hugged him tightly, and Louis chuckled, patting her on the back. “Hey there,” he said to the other one. “Want a hug?”  
She nodded, looking very shy, and Louis said quietly:  
“What’s your name, love?”  
“Miranda,” she said, stepping back and blushing a bit.  
“Nice to meet you, Miranda. I’m actually surprised you guys recognized me,” he said, looking at them both. “Oh, what’s your name, by the way?”  
“I’m Lou!” the first girl grinned and Louis chuckled.   
“Does it mean you’ll be back to music soon?” Miranda asked then. Louis smiled.  
“I sure hope so.”  
She beamed at him again, and Louis returned the favour.  
“Could we get a picture, then?” Lou asked.  
When they were gone, Louis turned back and saw Clifford running around with his toy.  
“Hey lad!” he called and Cliff ran back to him. Louis took the toy. “Good lad, good lad,” he said, ruffling up his fur. “How about we go grab some brekkie?”  
They found a cafe not far away and took a table outside. Louis managed to only start on his scrambled eggs, when his phone buzzed. He picked it up and his heart skipped a beat. Lottie. Louis swallowed, on the bridge of suffocating, his tummy clenching painfully. He answered, trying to sound cheerful.  
“Hi love!”  
“Lou! My goodness, are you back?” she said and Louis felt so, so guilty. He shut his eyes tightly, taking a deep breath. “Lou, are you here? Can we meet? Please?”  
“Yes, yes, of course, Lotts,” he said, voice cracking. “I- Do you want me to come over?”  
“Are you in London? Was that pic from today? With fans?”  
“Yeah,” Louis said, looking at Clifford and feeling like if he started to cry right now, he wouldn’t really stop for a few days. “I’m at that cafe actually,” he said, trying to keep sadness at bay. “If you want to come join me? Or I can come over any time?”  
“Send me the address, I’ll be there as soon as I can,” she said, and Louis thought he caught a trace of tears, too. He was such a shitty brother, wasn’t he?  
“See you, love.”  
“See you,” she said and hang up. Louis texted her the place and dropped his head into his hands.  
He didn’t even say goodbye then. He was so disappointed in Harry, that he just took the first plane to Wales after he found the house a few days after the break up. He lived at Niall’s then, and the only person he said goodbye to was his friend. Though he didn’t really tell him the address. He realized his mistake only when he started getting a ton of missed calls a few days in by the sea. He threw his phone away and got himself a new number, and hadn’t heard from anyone ever since, only calling Niall two months later, when his isolation became unbearable.  
He felt tears run down his cheeks, but he couldn’t really do much to stop them. So he sobbed into his hands, probably looking pathetic, crying out here for everyone to see. Maybe it was good that fans got a pic with him. He wasn’t brave enough to face the past at his own will just yet, but he didn’t think he’d get any braver, really.  
He could feel Clifford nudging his knee, trying to comfort him, but Louis just shook his head, eyes still closed. He kept sobbing, cold air biting at his wet face. He hoped nobody would see him. And if they did- Well, that would serve him right, wouldn’t it?  
He heard the sound of a car door close and a few steps.  
“Lou?” Lottie’s voice asked and he looked up, probably looking an absolute mess. She was looking at him with big glassy eyes, and Louis sniffled at the sight, covering his mouth with his hand. He shot out of his chair and she met him halfway, clinging to him tightly. Louis hid his face in Lottie’s shoulder, squeezing her closer and still crying. He could feel her shake with her own tears, too.  
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, not yet ready to let go. Lottie squeezed him tighter.  
“I missed you so much. We all missed you, Lou. I’m so happy you are back.”  
“Lottie, I-” he sobbed and took a deep breath. Lottie’s hands stroking his back were soothing, but he still couldn’t stop the tears. “I fucked up, Lotts, I’m so sorry. I’m so guilty. I- I missed you so, so much, love, you can’t imagine. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me,” he stumbled through his words. People passing by were throwing them looks, some frowning and confused, some sad. Louis closed his eyes again.  
“Shh, Lou. You are back, and that’s what matters, yeah?” she said, ruffling up his hair before finally stepping back. She looked just how he remembered, but more mature now. Well, he guessed having to care for five other siblings did its thing. He smiled at her wobbly, wiping his eyes. Lottie did the same.  
“Thank you,” he said. “I won’t do that again, I promise. Never ever.”  
She chuckled wetly, and took a deep shaky breath.   
“That’s good. I think I’d kill you if you did, really.”  
Louis breathed out a shaky laugh.  
“I deserve it. Let’s sit down?” he said, gesturing at his table, where Clifford was licking off his now cleaned plate. “Clifford! You wanker, that was my breakfast!”  
“You’ve got a dog?” Lottie said, sitting down beside Clifford and scratching him. Cliff sniffed her and leant into the touch. Lottie smiled, her face red from crying.  
“Yeah, the dog who had two breakfasts today. Yes, Cliff?”  
Clifford barked and Lottie laughed.  
“I’ll go get us tea, yeah?” Louis said, gesturing to the bar inside. “Do you want anything with it?”  
“Whatever you get,” Lottie said, smiling at him. Louis took a moment to look at her, not quite believing he was finally seeing his sister. He smiled wider and nodded, turning away.  
He came back with two cups of tea and two of Lottie’s favourite raspberry jam buns.  
“Thanks.”  
“So how is it going? Are you all living in London now?” Louis asked tentatively, sipping at his tea.  
“The little ones are with Dan back in Donny. Fiz and I are here, though.”  
“You reckon I should call them all?”  
Lottie pinched a piece from her bun and chewed on it.  
“You’d better, really. It was a bad idea to let that pic go public before you told us,” she said, though there was no heat behind it. Louis nodded, feeling even more guilty now.  
“Yeah, that was stupid of me. I- I think I’ll do it now, if you don’t mind? Does Fizzy know I’m back already?”  
“She was still sleeping when I left, and I didn’t want to tell her, so. We could visit if you want to?”  
“Oh,” Louis said, fear gripping him. He swallowed, his mouth and throat suddenly very dry. “Erm-”  
“I just think she may take it better if it’s in person,” Lottie said, patting his hand on the table. “She really missed you,” she said and Louis felt tears come back again. He wiped at his eyes quickly, nodding.  
“Yeah, you are right,” he said, looking at his lap. There was a silent moment and then he asked, glancing at Lottie. “Think they can forgive me?”  
Lottie shrugged, looking sympathetic, and Louis’ heart sank.  
“Do you forgive me at least?” he said quietly.  
“I’m- I’m getting there. I need some time to process it all. But I’m certainly happy you are back,” she said and gave him a small smile. Louis returned it, feeling a tiny bit lighter. He looked at his bun which he hadn’t even started and nudged it towards her.  
“Want some? I don’t think I can manage food right now.”  
Lottie stared at him for a long moment, looking disturbingly like mom did. Louis swallowed, feeling small again.  
“Let’s go now,” she said, standing up. She rolled the two buns into napkins and took a sip at her tea again. Louis stood up, too.

They got out of the cab some time later, standing in front of a block of flats. Louis and Clifford followed Lottie towards the doors.  
“So only you two live in there?” he asked, just to not have to be in silence.  
“Yep. Plenty of space, and Dan visits us with the others every month.”  
They entered the building and got into the lift. Louis felt strangely alienated from his own family, which, fuck, no wonder. He went missing for three bloody years. He couldn’t particularly expect to be welcomed with hugs and smiles, could he?  
They got out on the needed floor and he felt panic grip him. Lottie unlocked the doors to their flat and swung them open, standing aside to let Louis in first. He walked in, feeling like he could really do with a bit of courage. Lottie closed the doors behind them and they heard Fizzy’s voice from down the hall.  
“Lottie, is that you? I cooked breakfast, do you wa-” she stopped with her mouth open, looking out from the kitchen at the end of the corridor. Louis swallowed, waving faintly.  
“Hey Fiz,” he said quietly, seeing Lottie take Cliff away into another room. They disappeared and Louis was left alone in the empty hall. Fizzy closed her mouth and frowned, her expression nothing short of furious now.  
“You!” she said, walking towards him, and looking just like his mom did. Louis felt like he was nine all over again, having skipped another class at school.  
“Fizzy, I’m so so-”  
“Don’t you dare tell me how bloody sorry you are!” she shouted, slapping him on the shoulder. Louis brought his arms up, trying to protect his face, while his sister was beating every part of him she could reach.  
“Fiz, listen, please,” Louis said under the stream of slaps. His skin was already prickling, but he guessed it was the smallest price he could pay.  
“You. Bloody. Bastard,” she said, punctuating each word with a slap on Louis back on arms. “How. Fucking. Dare. You,” she said the last word and sobbed. Louis straightened up at once, ignoring her fainter blows now. She was crying. He opened his mouth, but she raised her hand, looking just as furious. At least she was done beating him now. “You left and didn’t even answer the calls! Who do you think you are? Why not at least text us that you were okay, so that we’d know you were fucking alife!” she shrieked at him, throwing her arms around frantically. Louis took one step closer and tried to grab her shoulders, but Fizzy shook him off. She didn’t step away though. She was looking at him, still in her pyjamas, breathing heavy and fuming. Louis thought if he looked hard enough he would be able to see smoke coming out of her nostrils.  
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I’m very, very sorry. I know I fucked up royally, but I hope you can forgive me one day. I missed you,” he said, a lump in his throat going larger by the second. He felt tears in his eyes again. He sniffled and a few of them ran down his cheeks. Fizzy’s gaze softened a fraction.  
“If you ever do that to us again, I swear,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face too. Her voice sounded broken and Louis plainly ached to hug her. “Never, ever again will you leave us without a warning, you hear me?” she said, still managing to look intimidating. Louis could only nod. She breathed out, her body deflating slightly. “You can hug me now,” she said and Louis laughed in relief, an ugly wet chuckle, bordering on hysterical, when he stepped closer hugged his sister with all the love and affection he could manage. He noticed that she was taller than him now, so he stood on his tippy toes, stroking her hair, while she sobbed silently into his shoulder.  
A few minutes later, Louis and Fizzy, red eyed but smiling, and Lottie and Clifford were all sitting around the small kitchen table, a plate of pancakes in the middle. Louis finished telling about how he’d bought two houses in Wales and Fizzy put a cup of tea in front of him. He took a bite of a pancake.  
“That’s delicious,” he said to Fizzy.  
“I guess anything not cooked by you is, little brother,” she said, trying to feed Cliff a pancake.   
“Ouch!” Louis said, frowning at her. Lottie snorted.  
“I guess that’s what you get for disappearing,” Lottie said, shrugging. Louis’ heart sank. He looked down into his lap, suddenly feeling unwanted here.  
“Hey,” Fizzy said, placing a warm hand on his shoulder. “It’s alright, Lou. We were joking.”  
“But you’ll still be pissed at me for having left you.”  
“Well, that’s a kind of a given,” Fizzy said, but she was smiling. “But we are happier that you are here.”  
“Yeah. That matters a lot more than the fact that you were away for what- three and a half years?” Lottie said and Louis felt another pang of pain. He dropped his head again, nodding.  
“I’m sorry, I- Just everything happened so suddenly, like, the band broke up, and mum, then my break up with Harry, I-” Louis’ breath hitched, his eyes itching.  
“Hey,” Fizzy said. She stood up and next thing Louis knew he was being hugged and held together. “Don’t think about it now, yeah? There’s been enough stress for you today,” she said quietly, stroking his hair. Louis closed his eyes, trying to feel at ease. He managed, a tiny bit. He opened one eye and looked at Lottie across the table. She rolled her eyes fondly.  
“Have you seen Harry by any chance?” she asked, sounding amused for whatever reason. Fizzy let him go and sat down by his side again, nudging a pancake towards him. Louis frowned at Lottie.  
“Why would you ask?”  
“You just got that Harry glow about you,” she said and Louis choked, blushing.   
“Harry glow? What the hell is that?”  
Fizzy giggled, clapping him on the back. Lottie shrugged.  
“So you have seen him then?”  
“Well,” Louis said, taking a sip of his tea. “Yes, I have. He actually rented the guest house from me about two months ago. And then he twisted an ankle, so I had to take care of him, you know how clumsy he is,” Louis said and mentally slapped himself on the forehead. He sounded way too soft.  
“How did he manage to find you?” Fizzy asked, sounding genuinely interested.  
“He didn’t,” Louis said, shrugging. “He just wanted to be in a quiet place for a while, for songwriting, and he kinda stumbled across me.”  
“And you believe that?” Lottie said, sounding incredulous. Louis raised his eyebrows.  
“What’s wrong with it?”  
“Yeah, really, you can do better than that. Nobody bloody knew where you were, and then Harry, who bugged everyone for, like, a year, if not more for your whereabouts, just happens to stumble across you? Come on. That’s such bullshit,” Lottie said and took a sip of her tea. What a lady. Louis swallowed.  
“But only Nialler knew where I was.”  
“Nialler what?” Fizzy said, starting to flame up again. “He didn’t tell us a thing!”  
“I didn’t tell him at first, only when it became too lonely, and I wanted to see a familiar face.”  
“You told your bandmate but not your family?” Fizzy asked again, and Louis looked at Lottie for help, but she just took another sip of her tea. How is that for a problem, huh?  
Louis swallowed, his throat dry.  
“I- Fiz, you gotta understand, first of all, Nialler is my best mate, and he was the one I went to when I ended it with Harry. I trust the lad.”  
“Apparently in vain,” Lottie said and Louis glared at her.  
“There is no way he told Harry where to go. Not on earth. He was surprised when I told him Harry rented my guest house.”  
Lottie just shrugged.  
“Maybe he wanted to help.”  
“Who cares about it,” Fizzy said. “Why didn’t you ask us to come? Or you could visit? Why Niall?”  
“Because- Because I felt guilty, I still do. I left you to it when mum was gone, and it was very cowardly of me to do, and I just couldn’t face it, okay? If Lottie didn’t call me up today, I don’t know how much time it would have taken to have the courage to face you,” Louis said, balling his hands into fists to stay present. He wouldn’t cry again. He wouldn’t. “And I’m sorry again for that. I was a shit brother to you, but I hope I can improve if you still want me around.”  
There was silence where Louis could hear his own heart beating like a rabbits’. He was sure he was red from the roots of his hair down to his toes, but these were his sisters, and if there was anyone he should have been vulnerable with, it’s them. Lottie nodded, slowly, looking him in the eye. She looked stunned by the words, eyes wide. Louis looked at Fizzy and she nodded, furiously, tears in her eyes. She blinked and one fell, and Louis felt like a world was taken off his shoulders. He breathed in.  
“Thank you,” he said, taking his teacup with trembling hands. He coughed to set his voice right. “Erm, can we phone the twins today?”  
“Of course,” Lottie said, still looking out of place. She fished out her phone and Louis’ innards froze, but he sipped at his tea still, choosing to fight the demons. He didn’t want to run away anymore, even if that meant facing all the demons today.  
“I think they are in school now, but they should be back by two,” Fizzy said, glancing at the clock above the doors. “Just half an hour left, and we can call. Shall we tell Dan first?”  
“Probably, yeah,” Lottie said, nodding. Louis watched his sisters silently, but then they both turned to him.  
“Yeah, let’s call Dan first. Thanks for helping, by the way.”  
“Someone has to,” Lottie said then, breaking a smile and Louis felt the tension in the room dissipate. “Ready?”  
“Yep.”  
Lottie brought the phone to her ear and when she said “Hi” to Dan, Louis made himself face it. He just had to.  
“Yeah, Dan, there is someone we want you to talk to? Okay?”  
Lottie handed Louis the phone and he swallowed before saying:  
“Hi Dan, it’s me, Louis. I’m back,” he said and felt the two pairs of eyes on him.   
“Shit, lad, hi! Are you alright? We’ve been worried sick about you,” Dan said and Louis felt another pang of guilt. By this point he was practically oozing with the feeling.  
“Yeah, I’m fine. I wanted to apologize for leaving and ask you if you are okay if I phone the twins today? And potentially visit soon, if they are up for it?”  
“Of course. I can’t forbid you to call, you are their brother. A shitty one, mind you, but they’ll kill me if I don’t,” Dan said and Louis snorted, despite the harshness of the whole situation.  
“Thank you, man, really. I thought it would have been harder.”  
“Well, I’m not the one you left behind, son, you know. You owe the little ones a fat apology, so don’t worry about me. You can take it off your plate, I’m not angry at you.”  
“Thank you,” Louis said, feeling relief spread through him. “Do you know when the twins are back?”  
“Should be at two. Good luck with them, by the way.”  
Louis smiled.  
“Thanks, I’ll need that.”  
“That’s for sure. Well then, good to hear from you and I hope I see you soon. You owe me a whole story though.”  
“Of course,” Louis said, running a hand down his face. “See you, Dan.”  
“Bye.”  
Louis handed the phone back to Lottie. He glanced at the clock and Fizzy did the same.  
“Wanna have a tour?” Fizzy asked then, already standing up.   
“Sure,” Louis said, following her into the hall. “Do you rent it?”  
“Yeah,” Lottie said from behind. “My fake-tan series is going well, so we can afford it,” she said, crossing her arms as Fizzy showed Louis into their living room with pale blue curtains and a big white sofa.  
“That’s sick, Lotts,” Louis said to her and she gave him a small smile. “I’m very proud of you.”  
She smiled wider, her bravado faltering. But then she huffed, her persona back on.  
“As you should be,” she said and Louis felt endeared more than anything.  
When they finished the tour and came back into the living room, it was already two. Louis sat down onto the sofa, Fizzy occupying the armrest. Lottie turned on the TV, muting it, and sat on the small table in front of him.  
“Do you reckon we should introduce you first or it’s better if you surprise them?” she asked, looking at both of them.  
“Surprise? There is no danger of them biting my head off, is there?”  
Lottie smiled and Fizzy ruffled his hair.  
“Let’s try,” Lottie said and handed him the phone. The panic didn’t get smaller with the amount of sisters Louis had dealt with. What a shame. Every second felt like a screw in his head. Finally, Phoebe picked up.  
“Hi Lo, what’s up?” she said and Louis froze. He put them on the speaker and held the phone in front of him. “Lottie? Are you here?” Phoebe sing-songed.  
“Erm, Phoebs, it’s me, Louis. Hi.”  
There was silence in which Louis just stared at the phone, breath hitching. Then they heard rustling on the other side and Phoebe said in a quiet voice:  
“Lo, are you fucking with me? Don’t do that, okay? It’s not funny,” she said, and she sounded hurt, and Louis was just sliced open right there and then. He blinked, trying to think straight.  
“She is not joking, love, it’s me. I wanted to apologize to you and Daisy. Is she there?”  
There was another silence, but Louis was sure the rustling from before meant Daisy was listening. Then, he saw a video appear on the screen. He swiped it up and next second he was facing his two little sisters. They grew up so much. Louis smiled wobbly.  
“Hi,” he said and saw Daisy bring a hand to her mouth and tears falling down her face. Phoebe looked just as tearful.  
“It’s you,” they said then and Louis could only nodd. He swallowed past the lump in his throat.  
“Me, yes.”  
There was a moment when they just stared, all three of them, at each other on their screens. Louis even forgot that he wasn’t alone in the room. Then, Daisy sobbed, and that sobered Louis up.  
“Don’t cry, love, please. I’m so sorry. I missed you.”  
“I missed you too,” Daisy said and smiled at him. They were probably still shocked, Louis thought. There was no way they wouldn’t put up a right fight if they weren’t. Louis smiled back.  
“Do you- Would you mind if I come to visit some time soon?” he asked, voice croaky. It was probably unhealthy to cry so many times in a space of two hours. He thought he would run out of tears by this point, honestly.  
“Please,” Daisy said, smiling wider. “When are you coming?”  
“Whenever you want me to?”  
“Today,” Daisy said, grinning now, tears still falling down. Louis chuckled wetly, while Phoebe seemed to just be watching him with a little frown.  
“I’ll do what I can, then. It’s today or tomorrow and I’ll text you when, yeah?”  
Daisy nodded, and Phoebe did so too, though slower and more uncertain.  
“Shocked you, didn’t I?” Louis said, addressing her more than anyone.  
“That’s a way to put it,” Daisy said then, nudging Phoebe.  
“Say something,” she whispered to her, and Louis heard Lottie snort. He remembered she and Fizzy heard all of that too.  
“Erm, yeah. We’ll be waiting, so come whenever.”  
“Are you angry at me?” he asked then.  
There was another silence in which they exchanged a glance.  
“We don’t know yet?” Phoebe asked more than anything. “I- So much time had passed. I- I don’t know, Lou. I’m very confused right now.”  
“That’s- that’s okay, I guess. Thanks for letting me come see you.”  
At that, Phoebe smiled, and Louis felt like he could breathe a bit easier.  
“Well then, I’ll see you very soon, yeah?” he said. “Don’t want to hold you up.”  
“See you, Lou. We’ll be waiting,” Daisy said and Louis felt warm. It wasn’t that bad.  
“Yeah, see you,” Phoebe added and waved at him. Louis waved back before saying another goodbye and hanging up.  
He, Lottie and Fizzy all looked at each other then.   
“Does anyone want to come down to Donny with me today or tomorrow?” Louis asked.  
“As if you would come back alive if you went alone,” Lottie said. “Phoebs will tear you into pieces once she realizes what has just happened. You wait and see.”


	9. 9

“H asked me about you. did you not tell him you r back??”  
Louis stared at Niall’s message. He felt a cold fist gripping his insides, and he wasn’t sure if it was fear or excitement. His heart started beating faster and he lowered the phone for a second, leaning against the wall. He stood in his childhood bedroom, and all his siblings were waiting downstairs for him to go finally meet Ernie and Doris. He was supposed to just put his bag up here and go wake them up. Another shit brother moment to add to the list, ha. He opened his eyes and looked at the screen again.  
“sorry, Ni, I will do. Just not now, okay? I wanna have some time with the girls and then I’ll deal with Harry”  
“just don’t fuck with his feelings again, yeah? i love you both, but u r fuckin dicks to each other sometimes”  
“promise :)”  
“say hi to the girls btw, and text me when you are back.”  
“sure”  
He pocketed his phone after that and ruffled up his hair, taking a deep breath to calm himself. He left the room and trotted downstairs and saw Daisy waiting for him at the foot of the stairs, smiling. The others must be in the kitchen.  
“Hey, love,” he said, putting an arm around her shoulders. She leant into his side.  
“Ready to see ‘em?” she asked, nodding at the room where they were sleeping.  
“Do you think they’ll recognise me?” he whispered then, as they were already on the threshold.  
Daisy looked at him, with eyes much older and wiser than was strictly necessary for her age. Did they have to grow up sooner because their little shit of a brother left them so early? Perhaps. Add that one to the list, too.  
She shrugged, looking sad. There was no sugarcoating this, then. Louis just nodded, stepping into the dim room, Daisy right behind him. He took the few steps to the two small beds that stood close to each other, and he couldn’t breathe. He stopped when he was right between the beds, looking from one to the other. Daisy gently squeezed his shoulder and Louis gave her a small smile.  
“Cute, aren’t they?” she asked quietly and Louis could only nod.  
“You know, I saw every single one of you being just as cute,” he smiled and she chuckled softly. Doris turned over, emitting a small soft sound in the sleep. They both looked at her for a moment and then Louis added: “And I saw every one of you shit yourselves. Lovely sight.”  
“Piss off,” she said on a quiet laugh, shoving him in the shoulder.  
“I’m so sorry I missed their growing up,” he said then, a quiet confession that sometimes kept him up at night, back by the sea. He swallowed past the lump that should really be not a surprise by now.  
“It’s okay,” said another voice and Louis turned to see Phoebe leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed over her chest. The light from the hall made her silhouette almost black. “It’s good that you are back, you know. Dunno if we would have accepted you if you waited another few years,” she said, looking at her nails. Louis swallowed again.   
“Phoebs!” Daisy hissed, as Cliff emerged in the doorway, sniffing at Phoebe’s legs. She paid him no attention, choosing to rather ignore Louis and his dog all night.  
“Cliff, shoo! You can’t be here, lad. Come on, out,” Louis said quietly and Cliff looked at him, pausing where he was sniffing Phoebe’s knees. “Out,” Louis said waving into the corridor. Clifford left and Louis took a mental note to apologize to him later.  
There was a silence between them, where Phoebe still tried to look unbothered and examined her nails, while Daisy was glaring at her. Louis watched his sister apprehensively, feeling like she was his mum and he was a small boy all over again.  
Then, one of the little twins wined and Daisy and Louis looked at Ernie. He was frowning at them, clearly confused about who Louis was.  
“Hi,” Louis said softly, ignoring Phoebe’s burning gaze, that made his neck prickle. He bent forwards to give Ernie his hand, but the boy shrieked and started crying. Louis stepped back, eyes wide. Doris stirred awake in her bed, too.  
“Shhh,” Daisy said, taking Ernie in her arms and kissing him on his head. “It’s okay, love. It’s Lou, your brother. You know about him, yeah?” she whispered, turning so that she and Ernie could see Louis. Louis squeezed out a smile and waved at his frowning brother. Out of all of them, this pair of twins probably looked the least like the rest of the Tomlinsons.  
“You are Ernie, right,” Louis asked softly, staying in his spot. He glanced at Doris’ bed and saw her watching him attentively. “And you are Doris,” he added. Doris nodded, but Ernie still watched Louis with an angry pout. He just stood there, in the middle of the room, feeling like he would rather be anywhere but there. An ugly feeling unfurled inside him, he felt like he was an intruder in the house and in the family, for that matter. He swallowed, feeling the lump in his throat grow bigger. Phoebe walked past him and took Doris into her arms. Four pairs of eyes were watching Louis, and all he could do was stare.  
“Wanna meet your brother?” Phoebe asked Doris, and in the dim light Louis saw his smallest sister nod, eyes wide. She looked as frightened as Louis did, probably. Phoebe glanced at him and then stepped forward. Louis took Doris from her arms as gently as he could. He squeezed out another smile.  
“Hi,” he said, holding her on his forearm and raising the free hand for her to take. Her tiny fingers gripped his pointy finger. Louis smiled a bit more confidently. “I’m Louis, nice to meet you.”  
“Do’is,” she said, the corners of her mouth tugging up. “You are Lou? Picture Lou?” she asked then and Louis frowned, glancing at Daisy and Phoebe. They both gestured at the framed pictures on the walls to the bed, and, sure enough, a lot of them still had Louis. He swallowed, looking back at Doris and nodding.  
“I am, yeah. Did you know I’ll come to see you one day?”  
“Yes,” she said and Louis felt that much better. He glanced at Phoebe, who was now looking at her feet. He smiled and looked back at Doris. “Can you tell your brother that I’m not scary?” he asked then and Doris snorted cutely.  
Daisy brought Ernie closer, who was now looking like a confused little kitten, still frowning. Louis gave him his hand again, and he just frowned at her, but didn’t shriek away. Louis took it as a good sign.  
“Do you all want to go eat?” Louis asked then and Daisy shrugged, hugging Ernie back closer to her. Phoebe led the way out.  
* * *  
Louis came back to London a week later, feeling like he could at least take one load off his shoulders. Not that Phoebe had warmed up to him completely, but he caught her smiling once when he was playing with Doris in the living room one morning; Ernie started playing with them on the last day, and Louis couldn’t help smiling at him all the time.  
His talk to Dan, Lottie and Fizzy that one night outside, with a pint in hand for each, felt therapeutic. Louis made himself not shy away from his family this time and told them everything he could, excluding the part about his feelings about Harry. He was uncertain about them himself, for that matter.  
He texted Niall that he was home, and they met up the same night, Fizzy and Lottie tugging in as well. They gave Niall a fair bit of slapping on the back for not telling them about Louis, drawing the attention of the whole pub. But Niall, the charming irishman that he was, had them laughing their heads off after their first pint at some stupid joke he made. Louis watched them all with a smile, finally feeling like an older brother.  
“Tommo, I found you a manager, by the way. My team says he is ace,” Niall said halfway though the night.   
“Do you want to make music?” Fizzy asked with a rather drunk smile.  
“Yep. Had written some tunes in three years.”  
“Three and a half,” Lottie said and Louis looked at her.  
“Yeah, okay. Three and a half; I’m even worse than I thought.”  
“Shush,” Niall said, waving a hand between them. “You can meet the lad tomorrow, see if you get along. He was proper excited to work with you.”

When Louis had sent off Lottie and Fizzy in a cab, Niall hugged him by the shoulders, while they were waiting for theirs to arrive.  
“Texted H yet?” Niall asked into the night and Louis shook his head, biting on his cheek. “But you will, right?”  
“Did you tell him where I lived?” Louis asked then, painfully aware of how blunt that change of topic was. A cab pulled over by their side and Niall clapped him on the back, grinning.  
“Good night, Tommo,” he said, already opening the doors.  
“Wait, Nialler, did you?” Louis said, frowning, not really knowing if he felt more betrayed or grateful.  
“Love you,” Niall sing-sang with another smile and closed the doors, the cab leaving almost at once. Louis watched it turn the corner and was left in the empty street alone. He took out his phone, pulling open his chat with Harry. The last text was dated almost two weeks ago. Louis couldn’t quite believe it’s only been three weeks since he last saw Harry, hugged him, smelled him. His life by the sea felt like a story from a book, sometimes a comedy, sometimes a tragedy.  
He squinted against the light and looked up to see his cab pull over as well. He pocketed his phone, putting it off one more day. There is no use in texting Harry at two in the morning anyway, right?  
* * *  
Louis left the recording room, feeling exhausted. Fuck was making an album hard. Making an album on your own was even harder. It felt so strange not having the lads around; the first few days he kept looking around in the morning, waiting for them to show up. His new band just frowned at him, some giving him sympathetic looks. But it went away pretty quickly.  
He got into the car, fishing out his phone. He pulled open the chat with Harry, like he did every single day for the last month, and just stared at it. Even Niall had stopped telling him to ‘just fucking text Harry’ and that should have probably been a tell-tale sign of some sort. Though Louis got into a trap now: the longer he went without contacting Harry, the more normal it felt.   
No, scratch that. Staring at the ceiling at night wasn’t normal. It got harder and harder to text him the longer he waited, that’s the way to put it. It felt like had he done it, a huge wall would crush and Louis would be buried underneath. While they still had some sort of barrier, and had conveniently ignored the mood of their last day and night together, Louis felt safe. If he broke the wall, he would have to confront the mess of feelings that was his heart at the moment, and he really wasn’t ready. One day though. One day he would be.  
So he closed the chat and opened instagram instead. He saw a mention from Niall and smiled before he even saw the post.  
‘Tommo has a new single out and it’s absolutely sick. go check it out ppl, the man is back’  
Louis smiled and called Niall at once.  
“Hi,” Niall said groggily, probably stretching.  
“Did you just wake up?” Louis said through his grin, looking at the steering wheel. The parking lot was almost empty.  
“Had a nap, yeah.”  
“It’s night soon, why do you need a nap?”  
“I’m going out,” he said with a yawn. “Wanna join?”  
“Nah, thanks. I wanna have an early night.”  
“Gettin’ old, eh?”  
Louis chuckled, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back.  
“Thanks for that post, by the way. You didn’t have to.”  
“Oh, sod off. Of course I had to. It is sick, I loved it.”  
“Thanks, man. Means the world.”  
“Such a sap you are.”  
“You know I love you,” Louis said, his smile growing on the words. “Sweet hell, we sound like a proper married couple.”  
“Sweet hell? Who says that?”  
“I do.”  
Niall snorted and Louis heard him take a sip of his tea.  
“Is there a point in asking you about H?” he asked after a pause and Louis opened his eyes. He sighed, more tired than anything.  
“Just give up on it, Ni. I don’t have the balls yet. Plus, my first performance is tomorrow night, I don’t wanna stress meself out.”  
“Okay, good point. Worried?”  
“Talk to me about it,” Louis said, the feeling of uneasiness increasing. “I think it’s because it’s so quick, you know? Like two months ago, I was in Wales having a quiet life, and now I’m getting the album out in a month.”  
“Crazy, eh? But that’s what you get,” Niall said and Louis could see him shrug. “It’s good that you had a positive reaction for ‘Miss You’.”  
“Oh, fuck yes. Remember how worried I was?”  
“Do you mean your call at midnight being like ‘Nialler, can I delete it from YouTube?’ You were worried sick, mate.”  
“Dunno how to perform tomorrow. I don’t feel good about it.”  
“Of course you don’t. You haven’t been on stage for what? Three and a half? That’s a long time.”  
“True. But it’s good you and girls would be there.”  
“Can’t leave you alone like that,” Niall said and Louis could really, really hug him right about now.  
“Love you, mate.”  
“Ohhh, aren’t ya sweet,” Niall cooed. “No, I love you too, you know it.”  
“I do.”  
There was silence, and then:  
“How are you coping?” Niall asked, sounding serious.  
“With what, specifically?” Louis frowned at his steering wheel, feeling like he knew the answer.  
“Come on, don’t fuck about, Tommo. It can’t be easy coming back to all this mess.”  
Another silence in which Louis just stared, not seeing anything.   
“Yeah, well. I have my family back, at least. And you are still friends with me. And music seems to be going alright. Though I’ll probably lie low after the album is out.”  
Louis said it all and didn’t believe it. He still couldn’t really sleep well at night in that big flat, which felt just as foreign and lonely. He should probably spend more than just nights there, he really should.  
Niall sighed on the other end.  
“Just, don’t overdo it, okay? Don’t overwhelm yourself. It must be hella hard to come back to this after the quiet.”  
“Thanks for saying that,” Louis said and smiled small, straightening up. He put the key into ignition, starting the car.  
“Any time, mate. You know where to find me.”  
“Yeah. Have a sick night, I’ll see you tomorrow.”  
“Try to sleep tonight, promise?”  
“Promise.”  
Only that he couldn’t. When Louis made it home that night, exhausted though he was, he still lay in his bed and just stared at the ceiling, Clifford snoring away by his side. What level of pathetic was it to let your dog sleep in your bed when you were twenty seven? Probably pretty pathetic, Louis reckoned.  
He turned over, the empty half of the bed glaring at him. Even he and Cliff weren’t enough to take up all the space. Harry could be there, probably. If Louis had phoned or texted or just said hi. Maybe they could have build it back up again; could have given each other another last chance.  
Louis closed his eyes and lay like that for long hours, thinking about the upcoming performance and how Harry wouldn’t be there; thinking about what his life was now — he was getting famous, but he was getting lonelier by the second. Or at least it felt like it sometimes. Even though he made it a point to hang out with Fizzy and Lottie every week, even though he went out with Niall and called him every other day, his thoughts still came back to Harry. And that sucked major balls, okay?  
* * *  
Louis stood backstage, feeling like he was back to his x-factor audition day. His stomach felt full of worms, people running around finishing his skin and hair made him feel dizzy. He did not want to do it at all. He slept for less than four hours that night, and the whole day felt like he shouldn’t have been doing what he was doing. London felt unwelcoming and Louis just wanted to go where he felt at least partly home. He wanted to see the water lick the shore and feel the salty smell and watch Clifford run around and bark away happily.   
He heard his name being called along with his new single and then applause broke out.   
“Goodluck,” someone said from behind, probably his stylist or something. Louis just walked forward blindly, feeling his knees turn to cotton.  
He put on a smile when he climbed the stage, the crowd boiling in front of him like some sort of bizarre soup. He looked around at the sea of people, girls mostly, but couldn’t find neither Niall nor his family. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Louis wanted to go home.  
The music started playing and he brought the mic to his mouth, feeling too hot all of a sudden. He could feel how wrong his voice sounded once he started, but stopping now would be even more of a failure. So he put on a mask as best he could, he walked around the stage trying to rile people up, but it didn’t work as well as he hoped it would. Everything felt off, and if Louis was honest, he would be glad to disappear right fucking now.  
“Thank you!” he said, and, to his defense, there was some applause; though it was in no comparison to what they got as a band. He was a shitty singer as well as a shitty brother now, wasn’t he.  
He left the stage at a run, heading for his dressing room as fast as he could. He grabbed his phone from the table and left it just as quickly, calling the cab at once. His heart was beating like mad, he felt red in the face and his hands were trembling. He texted Niall while he waited:  
“i’m going home now, please don’t call me, i want some time alone, okay? tell the girls i’ll call later”  
“just be careful” Niall texted back almost immediately and Louis pocketed his phone without answering.   
On the way home he thought he knew he would fuck up. It’s as if he had the plan already in his head. He would come home, collect Clifford and go back to Wales. Just for a few days, just to put himself together. He knew he had time. The album was ready, everything was done, everything was alright. Only that his heart kept beating like crazy somewhere in his throat and he was finding it difficult to breathe. He called his manager and asked him to book him tickets. Thank fuck he didn’t ask questions.  
Louis jumped out of the car and ran up the stairs. Clifford poked out into the hall when he heard the doors open.  
“Come on, lad. We’re going home.”


	10. 10

It was nearing morning by the time Louis arrived. The sun was about to get up and he smiled, genuinely. Clifford ran towards the water, tired as he was, to roll in the sand. He had a strange kick from doing that, which was weird. But then, Louis had just left everything behind for a day or two by the sea, so that was weird, too.  
He watched Cliff loose his head for a while. The sun had already painted the skies light pink and blue when he unfroze and looked at the house. What looked way too empty the last time, looked very welcoming right now.   
“Clifford!” Louis called and heard him sped towards the doors. “There is a good boy. You wait here, I’ll get you a towel, alright?”  
He stepped inside, pausing for a moment to take it all in. That felt like home; certainly more so than his flat in London did. Maybe he should rent a new one or something.  
He snatched a towel from the small bathroom which he used mostly, especially when Harry was here. Harry, yeah. They should probably talk some time soon, or Louis would end up in asylum, he would.  
After giving Clifford a good scrub and getting the sand off him, he let him in, following right behind. He fed him, chewing on a banana himself as he climbed the stairs to his bedroom. If there was one good thing about the tiresome flight, is that Louis was actually tired. Even his thoughts could not possibly keep him up in that condition. So he undressed as he went, leaving a trail of his tee, jacket and trousers, ending it with the socks and the banana peel. He’d deal with it when he woke up.  
And woke up he did, but way too early for his liking. His phone was ringing and he answered it without thinking, praying it wasn’t Harry. He was relieved to hear Lottie’s voice.  
“Lou, hi, where are you? Are you alright?”  
“Yes, sorry for not calling in,” he said, squinting against the light. He should have drawn the curtains first. He turned away from the window, trying to make his brain work. “I’ll be back in a few days, but I’m back at my house. In Wales, I mean. I wanted to call you today about it, so I’m not hiding,” he added before she could protest. “I just really need some time here, okay?”  
“O-kay,” she said slowly, probably not believing him.  
“Lotts, I really am alright. Really. I just fucked up yesterday, so I wanna- I dunno-”  
“Reflect?”  
“Yeah, probably. Can you accept that? Please. I’ll be back in a few days tops.”  
“Alright,” she said, still slowly. “Okay, yes. I was just worried about you. I’ll tell the others you are fine, yeah?”  
“Thank you. Can you possibly tell Niall I’m here, too? He’d worry.”  
“Yeah. Yeah, of course. Have your alone time, you deserve it.”  
Louis smiled suddenly, surprising even himself.  
“Thanks,” he said, stretching up and curling his toes. “What time is it, by the way?”  
“It will be noon soon.”  
“Shit,” he said, sitting up. “I never slept in for so long.”  
“Well, I mean, you had a stressful night, so.”  
“Yeah. You got home alright? Everyone okay?”  
“We were worried about you, but now we know you are okay, I think they’ll be fine.”  
“Phoebe is probably angry?” Louis said, hanging down his head.  
“Well, you can imagine. You could have at least texted us yesterday.”  
“Yeah, sorry about that. I don’t think I knew what I was doing. It’s like it wasn’t me, you know?”  
“Are you sure you want to be there, then?”  
“Yes,” Louis said without thinking, but realized it was true. “I am, yes. It’s calm in here. I should bring you all here one day. You’ll love it.”  
“Okay,” she said, and there was a smile in her voice that made Louis feel lighter. “Just make sure you call us, yeah? Or at least text.”  
“Will do. Thanks for understanding.”  
“As long as it works for you, little brother.”  
Louis smiled.  
“Say hi to them, and that I love them, yeah?”  
“Will do. Bye, then. Have a nice time relaxing and all that. Call me any time.”  
“Love you.”  
“Love you too, Lou.”  
Louis threw the phone on the covers and lay back down, looking up at the wooden ceiling. He would phone Harry today. Or at least text him. This was getting ridiculous.  
He took his time doing every possible thing he could before he actually texted Harry though. He cooked breakfast — if pouring milk into his endless supply of Choco-Pops counted — he played with Clifford, he cleaned the whole damn house, then played with Clifford again, then had another round of Choco-Pops — because he had no other food — and that found him in his living room with crappy telly on, Clifford snoring away in his lap, the sun already about to set.   
He took out his phone and typed out a text to Harry that he spent the whole day crafting:  
“hi, how is it going?”  
He was eloquent, he knew that, but he decided that it was Harry, after all. He would get him. Louis watched the screen for a few minutes, but nothing happened. Harry wasn’t even online at the moment, probably out with a friend or some other thing, so Louis locked it and left it on the table. It would buzz if he did receive a message, no point checking. Only that he kept glancing and glancing at the dark screen, and reached out a few times to check, but there was no response.   
So when it became dark outside, he stood up, Cliff waking up after he lost his pillow, and, leaving his phone in the room, he walked outside. It was a warm night, and now that the day was over, Louis felt strangely melancholic. He let Clifford run ahead of him and then strolled to the seashore. The sand felt welcoming today. He remembered the last time he and Harry shared it and even Clifford wasn’t there. Come to think of it, Louis couldn’t now imagine that his dog was even gone for more than a month, if not two. He remembered their quiet conversation, quite like the one they had many, many years ago, when they admitted they loved each other.  
Harry’s cheeks were bright red when he looked at Louis, standing close. His eyes were glassy and he looked positively terrified of what he was about to do, even his curls were trembling with how worried he was. Louis remembered gently squeezing his shoulder and asking:  
“Hey, Harry, what’s wrong?”  
Harry swallowed then, his adam’s apple bopping and nodded, but then shook his head. Louis smiled at him softly.  
“Come on, tell me, maybe I could help?”  
“I- I love you,” he said, eyes wide and voice low and trembling. Louis blinked. And then he smiled, wide and happy and warm, feeling like everything was right in that fucking world. Harry smiled too, probably without realizing it. Louis drew him in, kissing him. Harry was his boy. His Harry. He could feel butterflies erupting in his tummy and spreading all along his body through his veins, almost lifting him off his feet. Or maybe it was just Harry drawing him closer, who knows.  
Louis broke the kiss only to say:  
“Love you too, by the way,” and kissed Harry right back, a new force to their kiss. Harry seemed to gain some enthusiasm at the words, stepping forward and leaning Louis carefully against the wall behind.   
Louis saw the sea again, still somehow feeling Harry’s hands on his body. He never really had a chance, did he?  
Clifford stopped sniffing the sand where he stood a few feet away from Louis and looked towards the village. Louis frowned at him and looked there too, but it was too dark to see anything.  
“Hey, what’s up, lad?” he asked softly, and Cliff looked at him before running away, barking. Louis got to his feet, half scared half confused, but what he could see was Clifford running away into the darkness. As he squinted to see where his dog had disappeared to, he heard a quiet:  
“You must be Clifford, right? Nice to meet you.”  
“Harry?” Louis said and made out a crouched figure in the distance. Harry stood up and took a few steps forward, Clifford right behind him. When the moonlight licked his face, Louis saw a smile and felt dizzy. “Harry,” he breathed out, his voice breaking. Harry stopped a few feet away, Clifford looking from one to the other. They looked at each other.  
“Hi, Lou,” he said and smiled softly and Louis crumbled. On the inside, that is.   
“Hi,” he said, hugging himself lest he fell apart right there and then. “Erm, care to explain why you are here?” he said, crossing his arms. Harry shrugged and Louis saw that he was carrying a bag, probably with clothes. “Another writing retreat?” Louis said, voice high.  
“I wanted to talk to you, and since you didn’t seem to be willing to, I decided I’d come here so you’ll have no other choice.”  
“But how- Did anyone tell you I’m back here?”  
“I saw you running away last night and then Lottie told me you are here, so I took the first pla-”   
“You saw me?” Louis said, his arms falling to the sides. His heart was fluttering. “You were at the concert? Lottie told you- What the-”  
“Lou, wait,” Harry said. He dropped the bag and took a careful step forward, his hands held up. “I just really wanted to see what you were up to, and your performance wasn’t a secret, so I came to check in. And then I saw you running away all worried and I texted Lottie-”  
“You text my sister?” Louis said, not knowing whether he should be angry or endeared. There was three feet of distance between them, and Harry’s gaze was overwhelming. Those green, green eyes. Louis felt his breath hitch when Harry broke a smile.  
“Well, I just had her number from before, so I asked her if you were okay, but she said she didn’t know anything. And then I asked her to tell me when she has news. So, that’s how I’m here.”  
Louis swallowed, something heavy settling in his tummy.   
“Okay,” he whispered into the night. Then he coughed, trying to sound more determined. “What did you want to talk about?” he said, hugging himself again. “Oh, do you want some tea or something? You must be tired? Though I only have cereal and milk for food,” Louis said, looking around at his house. Anywhere, anywhere but those green eyes.  
“Hey,” Harry said softly, placing a warm hand on Louis’ shoulder. Louis looked at him, eyes wide. “Lou, I’m fine, yeah? No need to worry.”  
Louis nodded, feeling very tense. He looked at Harry again and heard the sea wave gently lick the sand somewhere near. The moon was dancing in Harry’s hair and his smile was somehow intimate, holding their secrets.   
Distance. Always distance. To hell with that. Louis took a step forward and hugged him tight, closing his eyes and letting his body relax. Harry’s hands enveloped him, making him feel safe and warm; he smelled the same as did Louis’ Harry from before; and Louis loved that he had to stand on his tippy toes to get his hug, because if anyone was worth it, it was Harry. They swung from side to side, not letting go, and Louis could feel Harry hide his face in his shoulder.  
“I’m sorry,” Louis whispered and Harry squeezed him tighter. Louis felt a lump in his throat and made himself talk through it. “I’m sorry for leaving back then, I’m sorry for not talking to you more about the problem, I’m sorry for not calling you after you left, I’m-”  
“Shh,” Harry said, raising his head a bit so he could speak in Louis’ ear. “It’s alright. I forgive you, Lou. I missed you so much,” he whispered and left a soft kiss on Louis’ ear, which sent goosebumps right down his back.  
“I missed you too, Harry. I- I can’t without you. I just can’t. I need you,” Louis said, standing even higher on his toes to cling to Harry tighter.  
“Me too,” Harry said, hugging him so close that Louis barely was touching the ground. “I couldn’t even imagine being with other people. I tried, but I couldn’t even kiss them, you know? Please don’t leave me again.”  
“I won’t, I promise,” Louis smiled, and to punctuate his word he kissed Harry’s hair.   
They stood there in silence for quite a while, Clifford watching them from the side curiously, the water still whispering over the sand. Louis was practically hanging off of Harry, but he couldn’t let go yet. He needed his warmth and support, and he was sure Harry needed it too.  
“I’m sorry too, you know,” Harry said then, his voice higher than usual. “For not talking it through. I should have listened to you, we could have figured out a way to make it work.”  
“Birds of a feather, eh?” Louis said with a smile and felt Harry chuckle. They gently broke the hug, staying very close still. Louis looked at him, smiling and happy and his. “Shall we kiss now?” he asked with a grin.  
“Yes, please,” Harry said and bent forward.   
Harry’s lips were soft and warm and velvety, and Louis’ slid along perfectly, happily. He was finally home.  
When they parted, it was to Clifford barking at the sight of them kissing. Louis left one peck on Harry’s cheek and nodded towards the house.  
“Come on,” he said, taking Harry’s hand. “Or else the lad would eat us.”  
“Do you think he is jealous?” Harry asked, picking up his bag. Louis waved at Clifford to run forward.  
“Oh, yeah, he is plenty possessive, just so you know,” Louis said. Harry chuckled and they reached the doors. Louis let Clifford in and then he and Harry entered the house.  
“I like it here so much,” Harry said, looking around.   
“It just feels right, yeah?” Louis asked, squeezing his hand. Harry let it go and instead hugged him by the shoulders.  
“It does, actually. It’s very cozy.”  
“Well, I had a lot of time to figure out how to make it cozy, so,” Louis said as they headed to the kitchen.  
Harry kissed him on the cheek and Louis blushed. He disentangled himself from Harry in favour of feeding Clifford. When he turned back around, Harry was biting his lip, his eyes a darker shade of green.  
“You okay, love?” Louis frowned, a smile tugging at his lips. Sweet darkness unfurled in his tummy.  
“Yeah,” Harry said dreamily, looking Louis up and down. “No, not really,” he said then and Louis snickered. “Shit, I forgot how- how pretty you are,” he finished breathily and Louis stepped forward, tugging Harry closer with his fingers in his belt loops. Harry’s hands found his bum at once.  
“Do you suggest we have sex on the first day?” Louis said, eyebrow raised. Instead of an answer, Harry kissed him, all teeth and tongue, and Louis took a deep breath because it was too much.   
He started walking forward guiding Harry, still kissing. They kept bumping into walls and corners, but neither seemed to care. Louis tugged at Harry’s tee when they reached the bottom of the stairs, and Harry raised his arms, breaking the kiss. When he was topless, Louis took a moment to run his hands up and down Harry’s torso.  
“Shit are you sexy,” he muttered, and Harry kissed him again, starting to climb the stairs blindly. Louis broke the kiss.  
“I don’t want another broken ankle,” he said and took Harry’s hand, dragging him upwards. Not that Harry needed much persuasion.  
“So caring,” he muttered and Louis was about to retort, but they reached the top and Harry swept him up in the kiss again.

Louis broke their slow kiss with a wet sound and giggled, hiding his face on Harry’s chest. Harry tugged him up, so Louis was completely on top of him, their sweat-covered skin sliding perfectly.   
“Hi,” Louis said through a grin. Harry grinned, if possible, wider.  
“Hi. Love you.”  
“Love you, too,” Louis said and they shared another kiss. “Don’t think I ever stopped, actually,” he muttered into Harry’s lips and Harry turned over, so that now Louis was on his back.  
“Never had a chance at stopping it, did we?” he said, and as monumental as it sounded, it was true. Louis tucked a short curl behind the small ear.  
“I don’t think so,” he said with a smile when Harry left a soft kiss on his palm. Louis cradled his cheek, pressing his thumb into that dimple. Harry was searching his whole face, and Louis did the same, taking in the red swollen lips, the rosy cheeks, and fluttering lashes, and the loving eyes. Fuck he missed that.  
“Do you wanna go to the sea?” Harry asked quietly then, a soft smile still present.  
“Right now?” Louis asked, combing his hand through the unruly hair.  
“Right now,” Harry said and in the next second tugged them both up.  
“Easy”, Louis said, steading himself with a hand on Harry’s chest.  
“Getting old, eh?” Harry said with a grin.  
“Is this an inside joke or something?” Louis frowned as he picked up the discarded clothes.   
“With whom?” Harry asked, looking at his jeans sceptically.  
“Oh, forget it,” Louis said, already in sweats and his tee. “Want me to lend you something?”  
They left the house and the sleeping Clifford behind soon after and sat down by the water. It’s been months since they last did it together, but it felt like a lifetime ago. Louis looked at Harry, sitting to his right and watching the sea and the brightening skies, all big eyes and wild curls. It must be dawn soon.  
“Do you think we are the same?” Louis asked then, turning back to look at the water. Harry hugged him closer with his arm around Louis’ shoulders and rested his chin on top of Louis’ head. Louis closed his eyes, taking Harry’s free hand in his. Another beat of silence passed, and then Harry said, thoughtfully:  
“I don’t think I care that much, to be honest. Even if we did change, I hope we can work it out. We are still Lou and Harry, you know?”  
“Lou and Harry,” Louis said, rolling the words, tasting them. “I like that. I’m just afraid we may hit a lot of walls.”  
Harry took his time to respond, while Louis opened his eyes and looked at the lonely bird over the glass of waters; he could hear Harry’s heartbeat, and the sound was reassuring, grounding.  
“I want to risk it, though. I don’t think it’s worth leaving it.”  
“Let’s just promise to each other that we will talk about the shit that annoys us right away, yeah? No need to let it eat you from the inside.”  
“Learn on your mistakes and all that,” Harry said and Louis heard a smile.   
“Exactly,” he said and kissed Harry’s neck were he could reach it.   
They watched the sun come up in silence after that.

* * *   
Louis nuzzled something warm and velvety and felt someone tug him closer. Harry, right. They were kinda together again. Good. That’s good.  
He kissed Harry’s neck, smiling into it. Harry was soft beside him, skin smooth and so, so real. Louis opened his eyes gently and ran his hand down Harry’s arm.  
“You are tickly,” Harry said from above in a croaky voice and Louis looked at him.  
“Good morning,” he said through his grin, which didn’t seem to go away any time soon.  
“Hi,” Harry said and kissed Louis hair, turning them over on their sides. They looked at each other for a long sweet moment, green into blue, and then Harry said quietly: “Still can’t believe I get to wake up with you again.”  
He grinned his ‘Harry grin’, all dimples and crinkly eyes. Louis smoothed the crinkles with his thumb. They used to not be there three years ago. Harry closed his eyes and leant into the touch and Louis smiled as he kissed his palm.  
“Can’t believe my baby has wrinkles,” he said then and Harry pouted at once. Louis chuckled. “I guess it’s par for the course, really?”  
Harry sighed and then smiled again, more private, more childlike.  
“I’ll love you with wrinkles too, you know,” Louis said, now running his hand through Harry’s hair.  
“You will?” Harry smiled wider and Louis nodded. “And what if I go bald?”  
“On purpose?”  
Harry snorted.  
“No, just, because of age.”  
“Well, I already have gray hairs, so,” Louis said as he shrugged clumsily. He cupped Harry’s shoulder with his hand, drawing little figures with his thumb.  
“You do?” Harry asked, frowning, but the corners of his mouth were tugging up. He drew Louis closer with his hands around his waist.  
“Yep,” Louis said, quieter now, looking Harry in the eyes.   
Harry leant forward and bumped their noses together, making Louis giggle. He enveloped Harry’s waist as Harry left a peck in the corner of his mouth. He kissed down to his jawline, slowly turning Louis onto his back and propping himself up on his elbow. Louis let his head fall back as Harry left kisses and gentle bites all over his neck and behind his ear. He tugged at Harry’s hair when he started sucking a lovebite right underneath his jaw, which earned him a lovely sound from Harry’s throat. Then, they heard footsteps and barking.   
Louis chuckled, the moment disappearing around them, and Harry raised his head, frowning at Clifford over his shoulder. Louis couldn’t help another chuckle. He ruffled up Harry’s hair, but the man was still pouting at the dog.  
“Really, Cliff, we need to make a time for ‘do not disturb’ or something,” he told him and Clifford just blinked. Harry sighed and looked at Louis again.  
“How bad is it if we ignore him?”  
“Better not,” Louis said. He propped himself on his elbows and pecked Harry on the cheek. “He must be hungry.”  
“Why are his needs met before mine?” Harry asked, sitting back and following Louis up from the bed. Louis raised his eyebrows.  
“Are you jealous of the lad?” he asked, pulling on his sweats.  
“Will you cook me breakfast if I am?” Harry asked with a playful smile. He chucked on his (Louis’) sweats as well.  
“I only have Choco-Pops, remember?” Louis said as they went out into the hall and then downstairs, Clifford running ahead. The sun was high up in the sky already.  
Harry groaned from behind.  
“Can we go to that bar thingy then? They serve breakfasts in the mornings?”  
“I guess it’s technically lunch already, but, yeah, no problem,” Louis said, opening the fridge and getting Clifford’s food out.   
When he straightened up, Harry hugged him from behind, kissing the spot of the lovebite again.  
“Want to take a shower together?”

Soon after, all showered and dressed, they left the house behind, letting Cliff run ahead to the village.  
“Do you think we can hold hands in public yet?” Harry asked.  
“Yeah, why not? Or do you want a proper coming out with an interview?” Louis said and looked at him with a teasing smile. Harry took his hand.  
“Nah, fuck them. I’m tired of that shite.”  
“That’s the attitude,” Louis smiled, squeezing Harry’s hand in his. A feeling long forgotten by now, but Louis was more than willing to make it normal again. “But nobody really knows who we are here, remember? So really, no risk.”  
“You are coming back to London, right?” Harry asked then and Louis nodded at once.  
“Of course. I wanted it to be just a few days spent in quiet, that’s it.”  
“Was being back too much?”  
“Yeah, sort of. Plus I fucked up the performance. I don’t wanna read the feedback just yet.”  
Harry dropped his hand and drew an arm around his shoulders. He kissed Louis’ hair and Louis leant into his side.  
“It’s no biggie, everyone fucks up. And you weren’t that bad, just not as good as you usually are. And you don’t know how scared I was when I performed alone for the first time.”  
“Really?” Louis asked, frowning at Harry.  
“Yep. I thought I’d shit myself right there and then. It was horrible.”  
“I’m sure you pulled it off.”  
“It really didn’t feel like it when I climbed off the stage though,” Harry said, looking at Louis. “Like, my knees were trembling. But I liked it, liked performing again.”  
Louis smiled at him as they entered the village. It was high time he said something.  
“I was at that one concert, by the way,” he said, looking at his nails. “Didn’t have the nuts to tell you before. Nialler sneaked me in, I- I just wanted to see you really bad, and that was the only way. I flew back here almost right after you glanced at me,” he finished with red cheeks. Harry stopped them and before Louis could even look at him, they kissed for the whole village to see. They drew apart gently, Louis looking at Harry and feeling like he could climb any mountain with this man by his side.  
“Ready to have some brekkie?” he asked and Harry nodded.  
They held hands as they entered the bar and ordered their breakfast from Charly. They took a booth in the corner, sitting across from each other and tangling their legs under the table, acting like a:  
“Proper teen couple,” Louis said before chewing on his scrambled eggs.  
Harry threw a crumpled napkin at him, which missed the target and fell into Louis’ plate instead.  
“Good aim, babe,” Louis said through his laughter and took the thing out.   
“We need to go grocery shopping today.”  
“But we are only here for a couple days.”  
“Man cannot live by Choco-Pops alone,” Harry said seriously, pointing an accusing finger at Louis. Louis rolled his eyes.  
“All you health freaks.”  
“Well, you’ll thank me when we are old and still in out right minds.”  
“Will cereal make me stupid, then?”  
“Well, sugar will.”  
“Says you,” Louis said, nodding at Harry’s chocolate cake.  
“That’s a dessert, I have it proper first,” Harry said, nodding at his plate of eggs. “That’s acceptable.”  
“How come? Less food less calories and all that.”  
“I forgot how annoying you are about your cereal,” Harry said, rolling his eyes now, but still looking fond.  
“Well, it’s worth defending,” Louis said, shrugging. “But yeah, okay, there is a sho- Can I help you, love?” he asked the girl who had just come up to them.  
“Are you Lou and Harry?” she asked, sounding breathless, though she wasn’t even a teen anymore. She was probably twenty something. Harry smiled at her.  
“Yeah. What’s your name?”  
“Miranda, I’m at my grandma’s for the summer. I’m so happy to see you,” she said, beaming at them so widely that her eyes were mere slits. Louis chuckled and stood up as Harry did the same.  
“Nice to meet you,” he said, spreading his arms for a hug.  
“Yeah, thanks for coming up,” Harry said as he hugged her right after.   
“Can I possibly have a picture with you?” she asked tentatively, and Louis and Harry looked at each other. Louis shrugged, saying,  
“Might as well. What do you reckon?”  
“Yeah, I think it’s okay. Just don’t post it this week, alright?”  
“Of course! Thank you so much. Is it okay if I take one with both of you in it?”  
Louis nodded and they stood by each side of Miranda as she took out her phone. She took a selfie and beamed at them again.  
“Can’t wait for your new music!” she said. “My goodness, I’m so happy for both of you. Finally,” she blabbered on, looking close to tears, and Harry gave her another hug.  
“Come on, love, no need to cry.”  
“Yeah, I’m sorry,” she said, stepping back and wiping at her wet eyes. “Sorry for disturbing you, I just- I saw you two together and couldn’t believe my eyes,” she said, new tears coming. Harry and Louis grinned at her, not really able to say anything. “Well, I hope I hear about you soon,” she said, waving at them. “Love you.”  
“Love you, too,” Harry said and Louis just nodded. He felt like a parent seeing his child off to school, though the girl wasn’t much younger. She disappeared from sight and Louis turned to Harry, giving him a high-five.  
“Here is to the first official outing.”  
“You reckon we should tell Niall and family today though? Would be too bad if they learn it from Twitter.”  
“Oh, Nialler would skin us alive if he does.”

“Fucking, get in! Yes! Yes, you fuckers, yes!” Niall yelled into the camera and gave a victorious ‘woohoo’, as if he had just won a marathon. Harry and Louis laughed along.  
“Why are you so chuffed about it?” Louis said.  
“Why? Why? Who had to mediate between his two mates for bloody ages, huh? Who had to stand you both whining to me? Who had to tell Harry the address-”  
“So you did!” Louis said, pointing a finger at him. He squinted at Harry who was blushing now. He shrugged, looking guilty.  
“I wanted to try it again,” Harry said. “Sorry, but not sorry.”  
Louis felt a smile nudge his lips, but tried to frown still.  
“Oh, come on, Tommo, it all worked out, didn’t it?”  
“Yeah, after I lost all my shit right on that porch,” Louis said back into the camera and finally gave into his smile. “Alright, alright. You two take me out one day, and I’ll forgive you.”  
Harry pecked him on the cheek for that and Niall pulled a face.  
“Get a room you two,” he said and Louis flipped him a bird. “Alright, alright, go have your lovey-dovey time. Let me know when you are back, okay? I wanna get a proper night out with you two.”  
“Yeah, okay. See you,” Louis said.  
“See you, Nialler.”  
“Use protection!” Niall said before hanging up.


	11. 11

The airport was insane, paps attacking them as soon as they left the plane.  
“You think someone leaked a picture?” Louis asked Harry right in the ear where they walked side by side with their bags in hand, Clifford right there beside them.  
“Yeah, probably. Hi,” Harry smiled into a random camera and waved. Louis snorted. The man had some nerve.  
They navigated their way through the sea of cameras, mics and paps and journalists, sticking close together, but not holding hands. Louis gripped onto Cliff’s leash tighter, he knew his lad was not a fan of so much attention.  
“Are you together?”  
“When is the coming out?”  
“Was Larry Stylinson right all along?”  
“Are you not afraid to lose your fanbase?”  
“What about your public image? Past girlfriends? Eleanor, Kendall?”  
Harry stopped in his tracks and put his bag on the floor, and Louis did the same. People surrounded them immediately, all cameras pointed at the two of them; some random people pulling out their phones. Louis felt like they were zoo animals, in a cage, on a display to entertain the public. He felt Harry hand squeeze his and they looked at each other, cameras clicking away hundreds of pictures that would surely appear on the web soon enough and drive the Twitter world crazy.  
Harry, as insane as it was, smiled at Louis that soft intimate smile they had only for each other. Louis couldn’t read minds precisely, but he knew what Harry was asking. He nodded, keeping up their eye contact and that was all Harry needed.  
All the noise around them died abruptly the moment they kissed, right there in the middle of the nosy fuckers. They kissed and kissed, until the cameras started clicking again, until Louis felt warm and relaxed and Harry’s hands found their way to his jaw, cupping it ever so gently. They kissed for the first time in their life for everyone to see, not hiding, not running away. They kissed, and even more bizarrely then Harry’s smile was a few minutes ago, Louis heard a thin applause. He drew Harry closer at that, and the applause grew louder. Or was it all in his head?  
They broke apart and took one last moment to stay in their bubble, all crinkly smiles and warm hands. Harry pecked him on the temple and took his hand after that, before they both picked up their bags and continued on their way to the exit, as if they hadn’t just broke the internet.  
“That was a proper showing off, eh?” Louis smiled at Harry as they made their way through even more cameras and questions. He didn’t hear them though, still a bit dizzy from what they just did.  
“We deserve it,” Harry said determidly, though his cheeks were flushing.  
Louis grinned despite the unease in his tummy and squeezed Harry’s hand.  
“I love you,” he said and that earned him a smile from Harry.  
“I love you,” Harry said back and they finally left the building behind.  
* * *  
Louis watched the retweets on his new EP go up and felt a hand on his knee.  
“Alright?” Harry asked and Louis looked at him.  
“Yeah, erm. They seem to love it, actually,” he said, the tight feeling in his stomach loosening. Harry smiled.  
“See, I told you noone thinks you’ve fucked up. Congratulations,” he said then and before Louis could retort, kissed him on the mouth. Louis smiled into the kiss.  
“Thanks, love. You helped though, so congrats, too.”  
“Me? How?”  
“Well the amount of attention after the airport kiss did its thing.”  
“Huh,” Harry smirked. “I would make an excellent PR manager.”  
“Wanna go snog people in airports?”  
“If they are not a certain Louis Tomlinson then no, thanks,” Harry said, faking thoughtfulness, and Louis snorted. Harry leant in for a kiss but Clifford barked from his place on the windowsill.  
“What?” Harry asked him, turning to look at the dog. He squinted at him and Louis grinned, though Harry stayed unaffected. “We should really check him, you know. I think he is in love with you or something,” Harry said, turning back to Louis.  
“And how would we check that?”  
“Well, does he stare at you for prolonged periods of time?” Harry said, glancing back at Clifford, who was watching them with his head cocked to the side.  
“He is not a creep, no,” Louis said, still giggling.  
“Okay. Does he,” Harry paused, leaning closer again. He stopped within an inch from Louis’ face. “ever try to kiss you?” he said and kissed him quickly on the mouth, drawing back before Clifford gave another bark.  
“Only when I slept in and he needed a wee.”  
“Hmm,” Harry said, tapping his chin with his pointy finger.  
“I think you just need to play with him more,” Louis said. “He’ll get used to you better.”  
“Or I could just snog you a lot, and the lad will have to bear with it?” Harry said, leaning close again. Clifford barked, but Harry leant closer still. “How is that for a strategy?” he asked against Louis’ lips.  
“We could give it a try, yeah,” Louis said, bringing one hand into Harry’s hair and closing the distance between them.  
* * *  
“When is the wedding, then?” Niall asked and Louis rolled his eyes.  
“Oh, we won’t tell you, don’t bother asking.”  
“Yeah,” Harry said, breaking the effect with a grin. “We can’t afford so much good quality booze.”  
“Fuckers,” Niall said and shoved Louis in the shoulder where he was seated right beside him, laughing. Louis drew him into a headlock and ruffled up his hair.  
“Hey, Niall’s hair looked so nice!” Fizzy said across the table, watching them. Louis let him go and Niall planted a sloppy kiss onto his cheek.  
“Get a room, you three,” Lottie said, but she was giggling.  
“Three?” Harry asked, looking at them two. Niall and Louis made a show of clasping their hands together for everyone to see.  
“Is there something I need to know?” Harry asked, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards.  
“Oh, H,” Gemma said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Seems like you are in for a wild ride.”  
“Thank you, Gemms,” Niall said, bringing his Louis-free hand to his chest and making a comical bow and nearly knocking his plate off the table in the process. “You never fail with your compliments.”  
“Any time, Ni,” she said and Harry giggled.  
The Tomlinsons and the Styles and Niall and Dan were all seated together at one long table (technically, it was two tables they drew together) in a bar, celebrating many things actually. Louis got his album out, and Harry released a music video; they had done an official interview confirming their relationship, which aired only last week, and got them even more fans then they had before; Louis’ sisters had all come to London for a visit, and so did Harry’s mum, too. It was a long forgotten feeling to be a part of such a big and friendly family, but again, Louis was only ready.  
He saw Phoebe look at him from the other end of the table and sent a smile her way. He received one back, though not as certain. She got up the next second and quietly left the room. Louis squeezed Harry’s knee under the table and whispered:  
“I’ll be back,” before standing up and following his sister out. Daisy sent him a reassuring smile when he caught her eye. He winked and she giggled.  
“Phoebs, hey love,” he whispered when he spotted her not far away from the exit, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. She didn’t look angry though.  
“Hi,” she said, glancing at him and smiling faintly again. Louis stopped a foot away.  
“You alright?” he asked bringing his hand up and squeezing her shoulder gently.  
She looked at his hand and then at him, and she looked sad. Louis frowned, cupping both of her shoulders now.  
“What is it, princess? Something wrong?”  
She glanced up at him, and then again, still silent.  
“Phoebs,” he said, squeezing gently. She sighed and looked at him full on.  
“I’m sorry for how I reacted when you came back,” she said and Louis felt the long forgotten lump return.  
“Oh, love,” he said gently, enveloping her in his arms. She hugged him back at once, resting her head on his chest. Louis stroked her back gently, resting his chin on her head.  
“I missed you so much, Lou. And then you showed up so unexpectedly, and I just- I was lost. I’m sorry. I love you so, so much, and I’m very happy you are back.”  
“I missed you too, princess. And I’m very, very sorry for leaving. I was such a dick to you all.”  
She chuckled and then Louis heard a wet sniff.  
“Well, I guess I was a dick to you, too. So we are square now.”  
Louis smiled and kissed her in the hair before breaking the hug gently.  
“Hey, are you two alright?”  
It was Harry, who was watching them from the open door, only his upper body visible from the room. They both smiled identically at him, arms still around each other.  
“Yeah.”  
“Does it mean you are my brother-in-law again?” Phoebe asked as she stepped towards Harry. Harry stepped closer too, glancing at Louis.  
“Well, technically. Though we are not married yet.”  
“Oh, you will be soon enough,” she said and Louis raised his eyebrows. “You just have that gone look about you now.”  
“Gone look? What the hell is that?” Louis asked and Phoebe looked from one to the other where she was stood between them. She shrugged.  
“I just know, okay? Take my word for it. Happy for you two, by the way.”  
“Can I get a hug from my new sister, then?” Harry said, grinning as he always did when people said something about their couple. Louis couldn’t blame the man, really.  
“Yes, brother,” Phoebe said, emphasizing the last word. Harry hugged her and winked at Louis over his shoulder.  
Good. Life was good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for being on that journey with me!:) let me know what you thought about it, lots of love, mardybum xx


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